Ghosts of Thornfield Hall
by Superagaentv
Summary: Over 200 years have passed since the days at Thornfield, a great hollow shell of what it used to be. Two souls, bound through time and space, meet once again in this modern retelling.
1. Chapter 1

_"__Yet it would be your duty to bear it, if you could not avoid it: it is weak and silly to say you cannot bear what it is your fate to be required to bear." __― __Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre_

Jane sat, her head against the top left of the seat, eyes half shut from her long journey. She had flown over, although it was a short flight, the drive from the airport had turned from one to seven, or more, she lost count. The drive did not seem to mind that his young guest was half asleep in the back seat. Her petite form seemed a sliver of nothing ness, a thin girl, with willowy features underneath a mop of hair secured tightly in a bun upon her head. What little there was to her, this school teacher from far away.

The driver saw the hall, Thornfield Hall, a great manor since the times of Lords and Ladies. Far in the past, an ancestor had been involved in a great fire within the place, but a predecessor had returned and fixed the place to its former glory. Hitting the turn indicator on, the car turned and the charge in the back woke, opening her eyes with no restless movements. "We are here miss."

Jane saw the approaching site, a great tall building surrounded in darkness, no sun lay upon its windows. It was a great mansion, tall and wide, with more rooms than she could count. There was nothing near it, vast woodland and grassy plains surrounding the great estate. In her eyes, she had never seen such a place. She had lived within foster homes all her life, since her aunt had declined all relation. A collage of homes, each one relatively equal to one another, none could encompass the circle of abuse within her aunt's house. She, herself, Jane Eyre, had been luck. Miss Temple, a young social worker, had gotten her out when she noticed something wrong at school. She had fostered a soft and caring love in the young child, becoming her mentor and esteemed older sister, of sorts.

She had always been a plain girl, she was tall, five foot seven, but her slim features presented her constant strife. She had small, and not overly feminine features lower than her neck. She had once been told she had a sweet face, with features not totally wanting, allowing for improvements. Blue eyes with sandy blond hair, scattering of faint freckles that never grew because, dear reader, she hated the son.

" is inside." The driver huffed, and Jane opened her door, clutching her overnight bag lightly. The man opened the trunk, and she walked towards the entry way, a remnant of an ancient world. Stepping inside, she looked around, tucking a hair around her ear. It must have been the old kitchen, a strange and wonderful place where technology sat among old things that seemed to rich and full of life. Running a finger along the edge of the counter, she lost her thoughts in her imagination. _Jane._

"How do you do, my dear?" Mrs. Fairfax spoke, coming down the stairwell to her left, and Jane swirled to greet her, being embraced by a traditional smile and handshake. "I am afraid you have had a tedious ride; John drives so slowly: you must be cold, come to the fire." A woman appeared, taking her bag and Jane slipped off her shoes and was brought into a massive room. She was grateful for the warmth, the chill of the night had seemed into her skin without releasing it. The two sat in silence, drinking tea and Jane looked about the room. It was tall, taller than any one person could ever hope to clean, or reach. Bookcases stood almost everywhere, and she guessed it was the study. Old rugs and furniture sat, not a shred of dust lay upon them.

"Am I meeting Ms. Fairfax tonight?" Jane asked, setting her cup down as she asked the question. The woman across from her startled.

"Who?" She responded, narrowing her eyes at the girl in front of her. Somehow, it all felt like it had been repeated some time before, these two souls conversing as if time had never separated them.

"Ms. Fairfax, my pupil." Jane said, hiding any confusion from her voice as she carefully repeated the question. The other woman smiled, holding up a hand in understanding.

"Oh, you mean Ms. Varens, Mr. Rochester's ward. She's to be your pupil." Mrs. Fairfax smiled, standing, grabbing a lantern while startled Jane briefly. The woman explained that they liked to keep it rustic, since they often had tours of people wanting to stay in the old building. As they walked, Jane became aware a great vast place, full of stair cases and old paintings, even some at the far back of the building were singed. She was very aware that her room seemed to be away from the rest of the house.

"Who's Mr. Rochester?" Jane asked, finally breaking the silence. The curiosity was nagging like a dog scratched at a door. Was he middle aged, tall and aloof, standing in a lone hallway watching her like an old recluse? Was he a old man, who lacked the power to care for a young ward? _Jane. _

"Why, they owner of Thornfield Hall. Mr. Edward Fairfax Rochester." Mrs. Fairfax responded, the elderly woman seemed to flicker in the darkness. She was as tall as Jane was, but stout, smartly dressed. She wondered what Mrs. Fairfax would look like in a past bygone age. _Jane._ She looked behind her, fearing madness had set in, a remnant of the house seeping into her soul already."

"I thought Thornfield Hall belonged to you." Jane responded, slightly confused at the whole arrangement, not to say the voice she kept hearing as they walked. Mrs. Fairfax opened the room, placing her bag inside, her other luggage already there. Her room was spacious, far larger than what she expected. A large canopy bed sat in the middle of the room, a fireplace opposite with a chase and dresser on relative sides.

"Oh bless you, child. What an idea? Me? I'm only the housekeeper"


	2. Chapter 2

_"If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends."  
― __Charlotte Brontë__, __Jane Eyre_

She spent her night tossing and turning, not from any lack of comfort in some small way, but for the airplane had gotten her luggage mixed up, so she had only what she brought in her carryon. Mrs. Fairfax had given her a long shirt to wear, which Jane presumed had to belong to the owner of the place, since neither Mrs. Fairfax nor John could find into such a slender cut. Her restless sleep was made worse, dreams of a man calling out her name whilst far out in the English countryside drove her practically crazy. She woke at 4 am, according to her phone, which had no service out here so it served as an alarm and clock, as well as a flashlight.

Sighing, her blond hair tumbling down her shoulders as she sat up, rubbing her eyes as she tried to see in the dark. For a moment she thought she saw a figure standing at the end of her bed, causing her to gasp and rub her eyes once more, blinking away the terror of the dark as she looked again; using her phone as a light. Nothing. Pursing her lips, she let out the breath being held unknowingly. The goosebumps appearing and leaving as sudden as a ghost. Jane swallowed, shaking her head, swinging her legs over so her feet touched the floor. Rising, she grasped her carry on taking a tattered book out of it. It was a sketchbook, her grandfathers, the only thing she really had of her biological family. Her parents had been killed by sickness, cancer, when she was very young. A baby really, so she could not remember much of them. However, her uncle, the powerful and kind Mr. Reed, had taken her in. His wife and children did not dare to counteract him in life, so when he passed tragically from heart failure when she was seven, her life began to unravel.

The fireplace was ancient, a relic in all accounts, and Jane did not know whether or not it should be started. But then again Mrs. Fairfax had said they rented out this place to visitors who wanted the authentic experience. "I hope they don't mean to have me dress up." She stated flatly as she struck a match, which were contained within a small box upon the mantle. It took her a minute, guessing what each instrument next to the fire was used for, but the fire soon warmed her and the room. Light from the fire seemed to roar on the ceiling, and Jane pulled her pencil from her bag, opening the sketchbook to a fresh page as she began to draw.

Painting and drawing were the keenest pleasures she had ever known. Miss Temple had been a godsend, sending her nice presents from time to time, but the school was her refuge. The foster homes offered little, but the school taught her everything. She learned rapidly, her skills with language and art soon became her most prised possessions. However, drawing and painting had soon surpassed her love of language, since other people had never offered much in the way of comfort. Helen had, poor little Helen Burns. In the all-girls school she had been sent to, the only constant thing about foster life really, was the private all girls school her aunt still paid for. Really, it had been Uncle Reed, whose will had left a sum for Jane, in regards to her education. Lowood school was ancient, some sort of religious reform school at some point, which did nothing to dishearten the girls who went there. Her aunt had chosen that school, and all money left towards Jane's education was placed there, which trapped her into the perpetual cycle of attending.

Being a good student make it easy for Jane to skip grades, now that her intelligence was allowed to grow and her ideas expand. She was a great reader, if nothing else, and kept to herself, was Helen. A few years older, Helen suffered from HIV. Being born with something so strange made it hard for Helen to find friend among her peers, let alone her teachers. Many of the teachers punished her for prejudice alone, something Jane found intolerable. Helen had become her guardian and friend, until a bought of mutated flu made its way to the school, ravaging the students who had to stay there year round. Jane's foster parents did not mind letting her stay there, they had no invested interest in the girl and nor the other way around. But when the epidemic hit, she was forced to go home, learning later her friend had died from exposure. Helen had written to her, a note in their secret place at school. "_I am very happy, Jane; and when you hear that I am dead you must be sure and not grieve: there is nothing to grieve about. We all must die one day, and the illness which is removing me is not painful; it is gentle and gradual: my mind is at rest. I leave no one to regret me much: I have only a father; and he is lately married, and will not miss me. By dying young I shall escape great sufferings. I had not qualities or talents to make my way very well in the world: I should have been continually at fault."_

As Jane drew, she recalled the rest of her years at Lowood, where she had graduated early at the tender age of sixteen. Lowood also allowed her to pursue a degree, something she the school did as a sort of working scholarship, she set out for three years doing just that, which all in all, had set her up nicely for this job as a private governess. Jane felt like she had stepped back in time, not just with the title name alone. The place creaked and moaned like it had been alive too long and see to many hard winters, the fire cracked and spat like it was chasing her away, a thought that was not entirely unpleasant after the first night here.

As the sun began to peak over the horizon, Jane raised her head, the natural night drifting in from the other side of the room. Standing, she placed her sketch on the chaise on which she sat, and walked to the window, looking out. It was so vast, the trees seemed to form a faraway place full of woodland sprites and fairies, things from tales of old. She could walk here, for days probably, and never return, getting taken in by the forest and whatever else lay within. A type of silence seemed to grow like the fog that rose from the trees, surrounding the woods and the forest in such a singular fashion. Jane turned away, rubbing her arms and dressing in what she wore yesterday.


	3. Chapter 3

_"Most true is it that 'beauty is in the eye of the gazer.' My master's colorless, olive face, square, massive brow, broad and jetty eyebrows, deep eyes, strong features, firm, grim mouth,-all energy, decision, will,-were not beautiful, according to rule; but they were more than beautiful to me: they were full of an interest, an influence that quite mastered me,-that took my feelings from my own power and fettered them in his. I had not intended to love him: the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously revived, green and strong! He made me love him without looking at me." Chapter 17, pg. 153_

She walked down the steps, each making footfall echoing throughout. There was an emptiness within each step, hollow, that Jane did not like. Her hair had been tied up once more, a tight bun little low on her neck, goosebumps appearing with a sudden chill. _Jane. _Making her way slowly, Jane looked at the paintings, some seemed to be very old, maybe predating the house or it's obvious refurbishment, and some seemed to be newer, as if added after the house had been rebuilt, but of the same era.

"Ah Jane," Mrs. Fairfax said, coming into view with a smile, making the girl jump in surprise. Jane offered a smile, the shadows of the dark hallways seem to create monsters on its walls, looming ghosts of the past._ Jane_. "You are an early riser."

"Yes," Jane replied, moving toward the light the woman held in her hand, as daybreak formed over the building, easing the looming monstrosities and nervous overhang in her mind. "I have always been so."

"My, you are young." Mrs. Fairfax mused, putting the light directly on her face, ascertaining the girl. _Pale, and perhaps a little thin_, the older woman thought, _but given time, she will develop well._

"But not lacking in talent, I am qualified." Jane replied, giving the woman a soft smile. "You will not be disappointed."

"Oh, I am sure we are lucky to have you." Mrs. Fairfax replied, "Just surprised me. You don't find girls like you nowadays, they are so flighty, off to South America to 'find themselves'." Jane smiled as they walked down, listening to the sounds of the old house. "Do you think you shall like the house?" Mrs. Fairfax asked as they made their way into the kitchen, were breakfast was waiting. A meal that was traditional; full English breakfast.

"All these relics give Thornfield Hall the aspect of a home of the past: a shrine to memory. I like the hush, the gloom, the quaintness of these retreats in the day. The rooms are shut in, some of them, with doors of oak; shaded, others, with wrought old-English hangings crusted with thick work, portraying effigies of strange flowers, and stranger birds, and strangest human beings,-all which have looked strange, indeed, by the pallid gleam of moonlight."

Mrs. Fairfax raised an eyebrow, chewing on a piece of toast as Jane spoke, hearing words like a foreign language. "What a strange creature you are." She said finally, Jane giving her a soft smile.

"Perhaps I spent too much time in solace." The girl offered, "I studied many old books and have, in turn, began to think more in old speech than the modern." She ate slowly, her head not focused within the room, but the wandering walls and history.

"What is the history of this place?" Jane asked, taking a bite of the food.

"Oh, this old place has been owned by the family for generations, it has been in the family for over six generations." The woman responded, sipping her coffee. "Back in the 1800's, it is said that a Mr. Rochester suffered a great loss due to his love for a young governess, he went blind and lost an arm in a fire."

"To save the girl?" Jane asked, her curiosity peaked.

"Oh heavens, no. That was the wonder of it, he was already married to a mad woman. It is rumoured that she set the fire, and then leapt off the roof to her death." Mrs. Fairfax said gravely, leaning in. "It is even said that her ghost roams Thornfield Hall, waiting to finally get her revenge."

Jane swallowed a lump caught within her throat with a gulp of coffee, a chill suddenly striking her. "That's terrifying." The woman laughed, a smile spreading on her face.

"That's just what we tell the tourists dear." Jane offered her a weak smile, foolish enough to become entranced by the ghost story and yet saddened by the lack of potential excitement. "Speaking of which, a group of coming in on Tuesday, from America. Staying for a week or so. Which means I have to drive into the village and hire some of the local girls to come be servants during their visit."

"Why do you not employ servants year round?" Jane asked, thinking about the enormous size of the house and the cost of that upkeep.

"Oh, we like to give the village girls some fun. We all have costumes you know, a themed adventure back into England's 19th century." Mrs. Fairfax replied, shrugging. Jane felt a wave of dread with that statement, cutting into a sausage. "Mr. Rochester said we were to pick up a few dresses for you as well."

"Is that normally what a private teacher does here?" She asked, the thought of wearing a corset and a poufy dress not fundamentally appealing, however appealing old novels were.

"I don't know, he has never hired one before." Mrs. Fairfax smiled, finishing her coffee with a grin. "I was only told to find dresses suitable for a governess. There are many dresses here that weren't burnt in the fire, so they really are relics, as you put them."

"You mean I will be wearing a dress from that area, not just a replicate." Jane grimaced, "Lovely."

"It's not so bad really, we had a lady from the village re-sow many of the items so they are like new." The woman responded, clearing the plates. "The first few times is a bit daunting, but it becomes fairly normal." Jane made a small face as the woman talked, the thought was not overly appealing.

"What is he like- this Mr. Rochester?" She asked, curious as to what type of person could come up with this eccentric formula for work.

"He's a very good master, for lack of a better word. He keeps everything running very smoothly. Always takes care of the needs of the building and the land. But he is away quite a lot, he is an enterprising young man."

"Young man?" Jane questioned, "I thought Mr. Rochester was an older man?"

"Oh heavens no," Mrs. Fairfax said, looking back at the girl from the sink. "He's quite young, in his thirties I believe." Jane nodded slowly, her idea of the man becoming more and more illusionary. As her imagination played with this new found image, Mrs. Fairfax turned around, hand on her hip. "Now, let's go meet your pupil. I should warn you though, she's French."


	4. Chapter 4

_"Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt? May your eyes never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agonized as in that hour left my lips; for never may you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love"__ Jane Eyre_

Jane sat on the chair in her room, exhausted. Her pupil was young, very vivacious creature. The exact nature of this creature was still unknown to Jane. Mrs. Fairfax had explained her to be Mr. Rochester's ward, a girl aged seven or eight, slim featured and pale, with long curling hair down her back. Her name was Adela, her mother had passed away and she had come to live here. Upon finding that a common tongue was shared, the little girl had become so animated, exclaiming, "You speak my language as well as Mr. Rochester does: I can talk to you as I can to him, and so can Sophie. She will be glad: no one here understands her." In her native tongue, and Jane had found it easy to converse with such an easy going creature. In pursuing this new friendship, Adela, or Adele as said in the spoken tongue, had shown Jane some of what her mother had taught her before she passed. The little girl had sat upon her knee then, shaken her head and sung a piece from an opera. It spoke of a lady so forsaken that she basks herself in jewels and riches to ensure the meeting of her lover once more. Jane had wondered at such a song being taught to a child, and concluded that it was not something a child should learn.

What followed had been poetry, and a dance, with which Jane smiled and clapped for her, it was done very well for the age of the child and level of skill possessed. It struck Jane that Adele had not been used to serious study, and it would only deter her mind to be caged for long periods. It was no wondered a private teacher had been hired in such a case. After noon, Jane decided to confine herself to sketching, heading upstairs when Mrs. Fairfax had called to her. Walking in her direction, Jane was struck with the room.

It had not been affected by the fire, that much was certain, or else it was such an exact replication. It was a large and stately apartment, with purple chairs ads curtains, a Turkey carpet, walnut-panelled walls, one vast window rich in slanted glass and a lofty ceiling, nobly mounted. Jane could not fully absorb the beauty and splendor of the room, truly something dazzling that must have been as imposing then as now. "This is the dining room." Mrs. Fairfax had said as she polished the table, "We have to open the windows to prevent dampness. Take that drawing room, it feels like a vault." Becoming curious, Jane had poked her head in and marvelled once more.

"It is a wonder that you can keep them so clean." Jane had responded, 'It is as if people walk these rooms everyday."

"You never can tell when Mr. Rochester will show up out of the blue, like a ghost, and then be gone once more, not returning for months."

"It is a wonder you have gotten to know him so well then." Jane had stated, giving the woman a smile.

"He is a well-liked man, the whole family has always been well liked. He tends to be a bit, well, peculiar, but then most well-travelled men are. I say he is as clever as any man, but we do not talk much when he is at home."

"Why do you say peculiar?" Jane had replied, her image of this man beginning to crumble away into some obscure form.

"He just is I suppose. I can never tell if he is joking or serious, pleased or offended. It makes him hard to understand." Mrs. Fairfax had mused, pausing in her duty to think. "Overall it doesn't matter, I am not here to understand him. He is a good employer, that is all." Jane had smiled at her conclusion, a man that was not only puzzling but off limits in terms of questioning.

All in all, she had learned there was a large servant quarter that led to the roof, which held the best view of the overall property. When they had gone exploring, Jane had lingered below while Mrs. Fairfax accessed a trap door of sorts, and Jane had stood in the dark of this chamber or hall contemplating the silence when a laugh struck her ears so sharply, Jane thought she had imagined it. It did not sound again, even with great attention paid listening to it. When she had asked Mrs. Fairfax about the laugh, she said it must be one of the older servants who was kept on by Mr. Rochester out of respect for her many years of service. This woman had a room all to herself, and she could come and go when she pleased, but preferred to remain in her room, knitting and crafting things. Her name was Grace Poole, a normal sounding enough name. Jane had even met this woman, when knocking on her door, and saw she was in fact, a person of flesh and not some ghostly apparition. Jane had introduced herself and promptly left the area with Mrs. Fairfax, bothered by the very feeling that seemed to linger in the place.

Jane went over the events over and over, weighing her opinions of everyone. Mrs. Fairfax seemed good tempered and kind, with a pleasing way about her. Adele showed great progress, and appeared kind hearted as well. The rest of the workers seemed nice enough, they seemed to avoid her in most cases, and lunch had just appeared on the table, which Jane suspected was to increase the 'ghostly' atmosphere. All in all, Jane looked forward to exploring the grounds, spending her spare time with meditation and finding solace in new hiding places she was bound to discover.

The only startling and constant unnerving quality about this place was the laugh, it seemed to echo in her soul, and Jane did not know if it was a warning or a creation of her active mind. As a child, Jane had been heavily influenced by superstition, but had grown out of such notions with a good education. This notion, as foolish as it seemed, lingered. Jane could not help but feel that worth lay in accepting her instinct, and remaining as far away from Grace Poole as possible.

Putting down her sketchbook, Jane looked to the window, hoping that her luggage would appear before her, she longed for a set of clean clothes that belonged to her, rather than a borrowed shirt and the clothes of a lost generation. She felt like she had aged considerably, but then again she had always felt like an old soul trapped within a realm with which she was misunderstood. She had never really had a playful nature, she longed for knowledge and adventure, but she confined herself to exploring the world through books, traversing the great areas of the planet through ethnographies and other accounts. Here at least she would not suffer being told she was an outcast, and maybe the feeling of such solemnity would lessen in this place. Feeling hopeful, Jane looked back to her drawing and looked carefully at it. It seemed to be that of a mad woman, standing within shadow and time, watching her with vengeful eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is C.B's work. I use direct lines in order to keep the ombiance. __J_

"Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs."  
― Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre_

The work was not hard, Adele was an eager pupil, and the hours were her own. September had been a blurr, and October, November and December passed as one whole time. When she wasn't teaching, Jane walked about the place, finding her fun on the top stories, the roof and the woods. The people who worked with her were nice people. Adele had a nurse, a French girl named Sophie, who was pleasant and Jane found that she could spend some time easily with her. She had met John already, and his wife turned out to be the cook, a sweet lady. Leah was one of the regular 'housemaids' if you could call her that. She was a young girl of just 18, who decided to have some fun working at the historical house while saving for school.

It was a cold day in January, and Jane found herself restless. It was Saturday, and Adele had begged for a day off from work, and it had been granted. Jane spent most of the day trying to make an old phone work, since she had to make a trip into the small village two miles away to contact the airline. They had not yet found her luggage, and four months of wearing much of the same thing, aside from those awful dresses Mrs. Fairfax delighted in giving her, she wanted her things again.

Sighing in frustration, Mrs. Fairfax chuckled, handing her a letter. "Come on now, those old phone haven't worked in ages. Why don't you take a walk to the village and post this letter?" Jane smiled at her, retrieving a coat hung nearby. Why this place had never installed a mail bow at the end of the lane, she would never know. "Oh come now, it's not that far. A good walk there will reawaken your spirit."

"And the walk back?" Jane asked, pulling it over her shoulders. "What shall that do for me? Am I to be kidnapped by robbers?" Mrs. Fairfax shook her head, a smile on it non the less.

"Just go child, the quicker your there, the earlier you get back." Mrs. Fairfax said as Jane zipped up the coat, pulling on a black hat and mits. "We are having quiche tonight, your favorite." Jane grasped the letter, smiling at the woman and shaking it at her.

"You really should John to do this, what will you do if I am not here? Adele would surely wander off and Sophhie would be lost within five minutes." Jane said, and Mrs. Fairfax chuckled as she walked out the door. The walk was a pleasant one, the woods seem to expand well beyond her destination, even though she knew they did not. The ground was hard, and the road was lonely, the only way to break the chill was to walk quickly, until it was no longer necessary. Jane became lost in her thoughts, an old church bell ringing as if often did to signal the time, and Jane knew it marked the end of the evening. It was true enough, the sun began to set.

It was then Jane looked around, she had walked into a lane of sorts and she chuckled at herself for being foolish. As she turned around, she got her bearings. This place was called Hay lane, since it led to the village of Hay. Jane watched the sun set behind the house, a strange quality about the air around it. She smiled, since this place was much on her mind. But Hay lane let both to Hay and Millcotte, which was next to the village. Turning back to her path on the hill, she found there to be a pale moon rising, and she welcomed its light as she walked. There were fields all around her, the land was sheltered by a row of trees that seemed to go on till the ends of the earth.

The mind does strange things in the dark, and as she walked she was sure voices were talking to her on the wind, murmuring strange things. The thicker the tree seemed to be the further she went, and she saw things in the night, strange beings and sights long forgotten within childhood memories. The crunch of her feet upon the ground made her shiver, the sound of the leaves moving in the wind. As she rounded a corner, she heard a sound, a click or a clock of some kind. Movement in the distance and an old tale of the Gytrash flooded into her mind. The nearer it got, the more Jane's ears heard the whispers and the noises, a great light shone and she turned her head to the side, for the road was very narrow, looking into the hedgerow. A large creature appeared, bounding out of the bushes like a lion and she jumped backwards falling to the ground as the creature leapt past her, the light shone and Jane scrambled to get up as the light blazed in her face.

Moving out the way, she panted, clutching the letter to her chest before she heard a screech of tires and a man cursing. Looking over in the dark, she could see that the motorcycle lay on the road, it's master in the bushes nearby, muttering. His bike had slipped on the ice, the same patch she had avoided by coming down the other side. Jane was very relieved that this was a human being, rather than a creature of darkness. The dog returned and Jane froze as she approached, the dog lingered at the man, its lion form now gone. This dog knew its own master, and he whined as the man grumbled on the ground in the most distasteful way. Jane had heard swearing before, a girl at school had done so many times, but this was the first time she had heard a man do so, and in such a colourful way.

"Are you injured, sir?" Jane asked, stepping slightly near her, but he did not stop his swearing, nor did he respond to her questions. "Can I do anything?"

"Stand the bike up." The man growled, and Jane stepped near, the dog giving her a watchful eye as she strained to lift the thing up. The man finally stood, but winced lowing himself once more and swore again, the dog barking loudly as his master seemed to fumble in the dark. "Down Pilot!" The man barked, and the dog was silent.

"If you are hurt I can call for an ambulance." She offered, this particular site had some forms of electricity, since it led to the village. "Or there is a house nearby, they have a car, I can run there."

"I am fine," The man said, "Nothing is broken, just sprained." He growled, and Jane clenched her teeth in the dark. With the moonlight, Jane could see him, plain as day. He wore a helmet, and all over covered by black material she assumed to be leather. Jane noted she did not feel afraid of him, perhaps slightly guarded or shy, but if he had been young and attractive, she would have felt differently. She could not see his face, but she assumed him to be in his thirties, and his body was not that of a younger man. The riding outfit gave way to every inch he had, all was trim and neat, a tall man she gathered, giving the size of his shoes and the height he seemed when he stood in the moonlight.

"I can't just leave you here, alone in the dark." Jane said, her voice strong. "I will not go until you have safety ridden away, and I have heard no more crashing sounds."

His covered head looked in her direction and the gruff voice answered. "Don't you think it is you who are unwise, walking at this hour in such a state of light? You must live nearby, where to you hale?"

"Just below. And I am not afraid, there is more than enough moonlight to see properly." Jane replied, slightly offended at his remark. "It is just past 6, there is no harm."

"Below? You mean to say you come from Thornfield Hall?" He pointed and she could see the faint outline of the place in the moonlight, and it looked very far away. Jane looked at him and nodded. "Whose house is it?"

"Mr. Rochester's."

"Do you know this Mr. Rochester?"

"No I have never seen him."

"He is not at home?"

"No."

"Can you not tell me where he is?"

"No." She replied, getting annoyed though her voice remained the same.

"You can't be a servant." He mused.

"I am a private teacher."

"Ah, a governess now less." He nodded, "I had forgotten about the governess." He seemed to mused for a moment. "Since I will not ask you to go for help this late, will you help me with something?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you see the kick stand on the bike?"

"Yes, sir."

"Kick it down and come over here." Jane found the kickstand and she put it out, waiting until the bike did not fall over. She hesitated to come over, he looked like an alien within the helmet on. "I am sorry to have to ask, but I ask out of need, not want." Jane walked over, it was maybe 15 steps to the bike, and she bent down so he could put his arm around her shoulders. He leaned on her, his right ankle seemed hurt as he limped over to the bike, which they had to walk around to the other side, whereby he managed to get on the thing in one piece. "Now," He said, "Get about your business. I thank you." He kicked the bike stand back, wincing (she assumed) in pain before he kicked the bike into gear.

As he roared away Jane scoffed, the dog chasing after him with vigor, as Jane set back on her trek shaking her head in the wonder of it all. Jane found Hay not long after, and made her way back quickly. As Jane neared Thornfield once more, she did not like the look. It was eerie and silent, no wind moved, and it also meant returning to the promise of stagnation. Jane took great pains to walk slowly to the gates of the estate, lingering on the lawn and then again on the pavement before the doors. All windows were shut and covered, making it seem more gruesome.

Opening the door, Jane found it all too dark and depressing. Here too, silence seemed to manifest over all sound, not a clock ticked away in the distance. She thought she heard the faint sound of Adele, somewhere, as Jane removed the hat, gloves and coat. Jane walked to Mrs. Fairfax room, knocking lightly on the door. There was no answer, and Jane opened the door slowly, gasping as she looked at the creature lying on the rug. A great creature lay on the rug, the dog looked up at her. "Pilot." She said, and the dog rose to its feet. Jane groaned inwardly as the dog came over, wagging its tale.

"Oh there you are." Leah said, "You missed the most fascinating evening."

"Whose dog is this?" Jane asked.

"He came home with the master."

"With whom?"

"The master, owner, sorry. Mr. Rochester. He just arrived."

Jane nodded, looking at the dog as she scratched his ears. "Really, is that why Mrs. Fairfax is not here?"

"Yes, she and Adele are dining right now. John is preparing ice for the master.' Leah said, all too enthusiastic about using old English to speak. "His motorcycle hit some ice and he skidded off, and sprained his ankle in the process. He was lucky he did not break his neck."

"Did he have the accident in Hay Lane?" Jane asked.

"Yes, on the way down the hill."

"Oh, that's too bad." Jane said, "I am going to retire to my room, if anyone wants me.

"Ah Jane!" Mrs. Fairfax said, coming down the hall with a lantern. "You will never guessed who has arrived."


	6. Chapter 6

"That a greater fool than Jane Eyre had never breathed the breath of life; that a more fantastic idiot had never surfeited herself on sweet lies, and swallowed poison as if it were nectar."  
― Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre_

Mr. Rochester by all accounts had a bad sprain and refined himself to his room, which didn't bother Jane at all. If he ventured out of bed, it was not for anything other than business, which happened due to him reconnecting a phone line in the study and library. Jane greatly wanted to phone the airline, since she was trapped in a wave of the same clothes. Adele greatly wanted to visit with the man, and Jane grew weary of the girl's insistence. After lessons had ended, Jane had wandered to the library, and heard movement, she sighed and tried to find a new spot.

"Jane." Mrs. Fairfax said, calling out to the girl. "Come here child," Jane did as she bade and walked closer, smelling the meal looking and smiling. "Mr. Rochester wants you and Adele to have tea with him at 6, just before dinner." Mrs. Fairfax looked at her and pursed her lips. "You will want to change your clothes."

"Really?" Jane asked, "This is all I have, well those old dresses, but I am not keen on wearing one the first time I meet my employer."

"Ah well, " Mrs. Fairfax mused, "Just wear one of them for tonight, that nice black one perhaps."

Jane groaned, looking at herself in the mirror. It was a black silk dress, nice enough but it was 19th century and grisly, as if the last person wearing it knew no laughter or cheer. Jane made a face, shaking her head and trying to make herself look less ghostly, less atrocious. Looking at her phone, she saw it was 5:55pm and she took a breath and came downstairs.

She entered the study, it was lit by two candles on a table and then two more on the mantle, besides the large fire that burned. Jane stifled her groan as she rolled her eyes in the dark, Adele was sitting by Pilot on the rug, and Mr. Rochester was lounging on a couch. Jane took the moment as it was, giving her time to take in his form. He was tall, and well-built as she had assessed. However he had a square forehead, which was accentuated by black hair that swept horizontally. He had a nose that one would notice instantly. He did not possess much in way of beauty, but character, Jane thought, was more likely. With a grim mouth, jaw and chin he was nothing very remarkable, aside from his physical being.

"Here is Miss Eyre," Mrs. Fairfax said, and Jane turned her head and looked at her, turning pale.

"Yes, let her be seated." He said, not looking up. He sounded impatient but formal, an striking combination if she had ever heard on. His grim way did not bother her, and she sat without embarrassment. Relative lack of embarrassment as Adele gave her a look of surprise at her dress, and Jane smiled at the girl slightly. Time passed and the man neither spoke nor moved, much like a statue. At last, he asked for tea, which Jane passed to him from her seat when it was ready, as he removed the cup from her hand, Adele pipped up, something in French and Mr. Rochester seem to growl, looking at Adele then Jane. "Who speaks of this? Do you desire presents too, Miss Eyre, is it? Do you like presents?"

Jane noted that he had dark eyes, piercing and harsh, much like his tone. "As much as anyone who has not received many does, they are nice enough as other's say."

"Others? What are your thoughts?"

"That depends on the present, there are many kinds and I can not give an acurrate answer. I think one should consider the whole, before professing an opinion."

"AH, I see you are not so childish as my young friend here. She wishes for presents at all times, and asks for them at every moment. You, however, beat about the bush."

"If you always give a child playthings, how can you expect any different. She knows you, values you and has a long term relationship that has been well established. If I have less confidence in my assertions, it is because I lack the experience and acquaintance. It would be odd to ask for a present from a stranger."

"Do not humble yourself too much, I have examined the child. She has no talents, and it not overly bright, yet in the time with you she has improved greatly."

"Sir, you have now given me my present, and I thank you. A pupil's praise is the greatest present to receive."

"Hah!" He chortled, "Come sit by the fire" he said after a time, Adele had been showing her something in my corner of the dimly lit room, and Jane now followed the instruction, sitting down. "You have been here three months?"

"Almost four."

"Where did you go to school?'

"Lowood."

"Ah yes, Lowood. How long did you attend."

"Eight years."

"Eight! Well you are very tenacious then, if I had lived at boarding school I should have died within six months." He mused, watching her. "No wonder you are so," He gestured with his hand to fond the word and she watched him with no expression. "-other wordly. I wondered how you must have gotten such a face. When I saw you in the Lane last night, I much thought that you had put a curse on my bike, or the road. Which I am not yet sure. What of your parents."

"I don't have any."

"Ah, we are the same then. Do you remember them?"

"No."

"I thought as much. Were you waiting for your people when I saw you?"

Jane furrowed her brow slightly, "For whom sir?"

"For the men in green" it was proper moonlight for the creatures. Did I break a spell or ring of magic that you put the ice there?"

Jane shook her head. "No Green men have been in England for over 300 years ago." She replied with a serious tone. "There would be no traces of them in Hay Lane, and I do not think moonlight in summer or harvest, or winter will shine on them evermore."

Mrs. Fairfax cleared her throat at such talk, strange and fanciful as it was. It was not proper conversation.

"Who are your family then, since you discard your parents?"

"I have one aunt who is alive, but we do not speak."

"No one else then?"

"No one."

"Your home?"

"I have none."

"Siblings?"

"None."

"How did you come to find yourself here?"

"I put out an ad with the schools for a private teacher." Mrs. Fairfax said, "And I am glad she responded. God has granted me a good companion and teacher."

"Don't give her character," He growled, "I can see it for myself. She already spelled my bike."

"What?" Mrs. Fairfax said, stopping the knitting work she was doing.

"It is her fault I have this injury." Mr. Rochester growled, and Mrs, Fairfax looked very bewildered. "Did you ever live in town?"

"Not really. I stayed on at the school while finished my degree. In residence."

"Did you have a life?"

"No, not really."

"No parties, drinking, dances?"

"No."

"What do you do?"

"I read, draw and paint mostly. I sing sometimes but when I am alone."

"You are not a teacher, but a nun. No wonder you are so cold and unnatural, you have not lived!"

"Yes sir."

"Did you like your school director?"

"No."

"I bet you worshipped him."

"I did not. He was odious."

"What nun does not worship their priest, a lover of education that you are. I do not believe you."

"He was cruel and unjust." Jane responded, an edge to her voice.

"What a vauge description."

"He only cared about money, not if we had enough food or good food. If there was heat or not. We had light for as long as it was deemed cost effective. Our beds had not been replaced in over 10 years. Shall I go on?"

"What age were you when you started?"

"Around 8."

"You are not 16."

"I am 19, I did go to college."

"Ah yes, math you see, is useful in the real world. How else could I have tried to guess your age, when your face has no clue as to it. Did you learn much at college?"

"Yes."

"Can you play the piano?"

"I can." Jane said, she found herself annoyed at his questions, they were never ending.

"Will you play for me?"

"Now?" She asked, looking around.

"There is a piano in the library."

"And no light to see the music."

"Enough then. Adele showed me some sketches you have done, but they are too good for a girl of 19."

"What? No,-"

'Aah, I see where your heart is, this touches your pride, go fetch your drawing for me, I need proof of this."

"Can I not draw something for you here, now?"

"Fine, do what you must." He growled, and Jane found a piece of scrap paper and a pencil. After a length she finished, handing it to him. He looked at it roughly, looking closely at every bit. Mrs. Fairfax and Adele came round to see, but he growled at them to back off. "All those pictures were done by your hand?"

"Yes."

"When did you have time?"

"Spare class times, the plane, days off here."

"Where are the copies?"

Jane eyed him carefully, calming her voice. "They are not copies."

"You got all those images out of your head?"

"Yes."

"That head, the one on your very shoulders?"

"Yes, sir."

"Does it have anything else within?"

"I should hope so, since Adele is so much improved."

He looked at the drawing once more, and Jane found herself wondering if sketching him was a bad idea. She had drawn him roughly and fiercely, but maybe she should have chosen the fire or something equally dull. "And the rest of those drawings, were you happy when you did them?"

"I am always happy as I draw, for it is drawing that makes me happy. It is one of the best things I have ever known."

"You cannot have known much of such things." Mr. Rochester responded, "You must exist in a dreamland, where you can bend things to your will. Do these take you long?"

"Sometimes, it depends on the time I have to give. Sometimes it can take up all my free time, and other, not long at all."

"Are you satisfied with them?"

"Some, artists are always tormented by their work, it becomes real and creates its own kind of imperfection. Most come from within my head, and it is hard to live up to those expectations."

"For a girl, they were particular. So much fantasy within them, elves and the 'evening star' look like creatures from a dream. Yet they were so clear and real on the page, like forms from another planet had come and posed for you. What meaning exists there, what depth? Who taught you that wind had spirit, and sky, that they have faces and forms? What aid have you that you can produce such a likeness of me!?" He growled, handing the paper back and snapping. "It is past nine, how much later are you going to let Adele sit up? Go, take her to bed."

Jane stood, telling Adele what must happen and the child kissed the man goodnight, before following her teacher away. Jane felt like talking with Mrs. Fairfax, her description of him was quite ill. He was changeful and abrupt, treating his guests very unfairly. She wondered if it was within his nature, and she imagined it was, or perhaps learned from the people he kept with in the cities.

Reaching her room, she rid herself of the dress and its constraints. Grabbing the t shirt, she crawled into bed, not liking her first meeting with the man, yet she found herself liking him, he was odd and it intrigued her mind. She would learn later that he never spent much time at this place, adding to his mystery and her own inner delight at the adventure.


	7. Chapter 7

"You transfix me quite."  
― Charlotte Brontë

Several days went by without hide nor hare of the master of the house; business, a neighbor called and spent all day with him, and when his foot allowed it, he rode on horseback around the property or to his neighbor's house to return the friendship. As Jane mused in her room, she found that Adele was shocking not called on, he wanted little to do with the child it seemed. As for her own meetings with him, he had seen her in fleeting moments, stairs, kitchen or the halls, met with little kindness or good humour. Most of the time he did not acknowledge her existence, and she returned the favor after being slighted for the first time. After which his moods did not affect her, and she regarded their relationship to be cordial and unimportant, never surpassing the employer-employee status. When her luggage had arrived, she had seen the delivery truck pull in resulting in her bolting from her room, running down the stairs, practically running over her employer as she darted out to the truck, signed the waiver and hauled her bags upstairs. Never had one person so glad for modern garb.

There was an evening when he had a group of people over for dinner, and she learned that her artwork had been taken from her room and displayed at this get together, a fact she contributed to his oddities. However, after the men had left, she had been told by Mrs. Fairfax to change her clothes and meet him afterwards in the study. Jane had just frozen, mouth open as she thought of what meager thing she had to wear. "Dress formally, you know how it is with him" Mrs. Fairfax said, and the girl turned and headed upstairs as fast as she could.

Choosing a knee length black dress, she slipped into it, zipping it up and securing her hair in the bun before she descended. As she had come to the room, she had heard Adele exclaiming about a present, her giddy tones and happy face brought a soft smile to Jane's face as she stood in the doorway. The little girl was running over to the sofa, a large box in her hands. "Mind you don't bother me with details of this process, silence is needed." The master growled at the child, but his commands went unheard. "Is Miss Eyre here yet?" He growled, half rising from his chair and saw her, and Jane stepped forward from the doorway. "Ah! Come forward, here-" He pulled a chair closer to himself, as she moved toward him. "Sit next to me, for I dislike the prattle of children, for being that I am old and a bachelor, it does not please me to spend all night talking with such a brat." Jane said nothing as she sat, and he sat back down in his place. "No don't move away from me, Miss Eyre, sit where I placed it. I also abhor simple minded old ladies, but alas, she is my relative and blood is thicker than water." Mrs. Fairfax had entered the room as if on command, knitting material in hand. "Ah, good evening Madam, you are here under charitable reasons, for I forbid Adele from talking about her present to me, and I have chosen you for this task." As soon as he said it, or before if truth be told, Adele summoned Mrs. Fairfax over to show her and parade her present around.

"My duties are dispensed, I can refrain now from being a gracious host, see Miss Eyre, they are perfectly matched for the evening. Now-" He growled, and Jane watched him neutral expression. "Come closer to me, you sit too far away. I cannot see you without disturbing my position in my comfortable chair."

Jane did so, her mind was trying to comprehend this odd creature she was sitting by, and at the same time a little miffed at his tone of orders yet somehow knew to do what he wanted right away. As she had studied him, he seemed less gloomy, he had been smiling, something that she thought him incapable of. Most notably of all the facts that night, his eyes held sparkle, and she wondered if it was the wine. She also knew he was in a much better mood than the mornings, usually, and the fire seemed to make his dark eyes seem great, and they were great, dark orbs that seemed to change in the light, like there existed something in the depths that was changeable, but not softness.

"You examine me," He had said, snapping her out of her reverie. "Do you find me handsome?"

"No, sir." Jane knew, reflecting back on it, that she should not have answered so quickly.

"Ah! You are a singular minded creature." He had said back to her, "You sit there, quiet, grave, quaint and simple, your hands on your lap, your eyes now on the carpet which, previous were on my face quite directly, yet if asked a question, or presents a remark that requires response, you give such an answer that is quite the rejoinder, blunt usually. What do you mean by it?"

"I spoke too quickly, I should have said that such an impromptu question about appearance should not be answered to casually. Everyone has different tastes, what one finds handsome the other repulsive. Perhaps I should say that beauty is of little consequence."

"You ought to say nothing like, beauty is indeed very important! So, with the pretense of softening the blow to my ego, or of inducing me into a placid state, you go an stick a knife between my ribs. Say, what fault is there in me? Pray tell, I long to know the answer. I trust I have all my limbs and features like a normal person."

"I respectfully decline, my response was a blunder, that's all. I retract it."

"Ah, I think so, but none the less, be critical me. What fault is there? My forehead, perhaps." He lifted up his hair, and his prominent forehead showed readily. "Now, then, is this the head of a fool?"

"Far from it, a philanthropist perhaps?"

"Again, another knife to the ribs." He growled, "It is because I spoke of children and old ladies poorly. I see it in your eyes. I am no philanthropist, but I do have a conscience." He had pointed to various places on his head to indicate his point, and she watched him with little concern. "I was like you once, with some softness of heart, but I was unfostered, unfledged and unlucky. Fortune struck me a hard blow since and continually hit me down, and I am as you see me, like a hard plastic ball. I am pervious to subtle cracks and chips now and again, with one sentient point in the middle of it. There is still hope for me, I think."

"Hope of what?"

"Of becoming flesh once more."

Jane did not change her expression, but decided he had much wine, too much. However, given that point, she had not known how to respond, it was such an odd statement.

"You bear an odd expression, are you puzzled Miss Eyre?" He asked, watching her, "You, who faintly pretty, but not more than I am handsome, by your standards, yet it puzzles you and therefore makes it easier for you to stare at me, searching no doubt for my imperfections and then search the rug for comparable traits. Young lady, in light of such things, I am disposed to saw goodnight." He had risen then, walking from his chair to the mantle, and he leaned on it. He exposed his shape and features well then, his chest was large and did not fit with his limbs, they seemed too long, it would have made him ugly if not for the way he carried himself. Pride made him likeable, unconscious may it be, and he possessed an easy manner and complete indifference to his appearance. He relied on his other qualities to make up for his physical appearance, she guessed, and Jane could see how people probably put complete faith in him, blind to his physical defaults. "I am disposed to say goodnight," He said once more. "That is why I invited you here, Adele, nor Pilot would provide enough company to entertain me. Nor Mrs. Fairfax, though a good company she can be. I decided you would best suit me because you puzzle me, have since I first met you. I had almost forgotten you, other ideas have driven you from my mind, but now, I am to be put at ease. I shall dismiss what I do not like and recall what I do. I wish to draw you out, so speak, I want to learn more of you."

Jane smiled then, she recalled, instead of talking, but it was not complacent nor submissive.

"Speak to me."

"What about?'

"Whatever you like, you can choose the subject and content."

It had struck Jane then that he may want her to speak in order to show off, and she resigned to think he had chosen much the wrong person.

"You are dumb." Jane looked at him and remained dumb, as he called it. He approached and bent down, his face has been very close to her own, his glance into her own eyes haughty. "Stubborn, I think." His watched her. "And annoyed. Ah! There is the emotion, consistent it is. I did ask in such a way to make you angry. I am sorry, I was insolent, wasn't I. You are not my inferior, not in status, but in youth only." He corrected. "I only wish for you to quell my thoughts, which are old and rusted like a nail." He stood back, his half apology issued.

"I am willing to amuse you, but I do not think I am much up to the task."

"Well first, do you agree I have a right to be masterful; abrupt, demanding maybe exacting on occasion. On the grounds that I am old enough to be your father, and I have vast worldly experience were you have none."

"Do as you like."

"That is no answer, or more so irritating, evasive. Tell me clearly."

"You have no right to command me, age is a number that only indicates days awake on the earth, that does not mean you are more sound minded or justified in your treatment of someone. If you claim mastery, it must be from experience and time used well."

"Promptly said, however I dislike it. Then, mastery aside, will you still receive my orders when they come, now and then, and without being hurt by a tone of command?" Jane recalled that she had smiled then, and he had been amused because it became apparent that he was not aware he was paying her to be there. "That smile is well enough, but speak too."

"I was thinking that very few employers care much about whether or nor their paid subordinates are displeased with receiving an order."

"Paid subordinate indeed! Ah yes, you are being paid to teach Adele, I forgot." He chuckled, "With that in mind, will you humour me?"

"No, not on that ground." Jane had said, "But with the fact that you forgot and you have been treating me like an equal, as long as it continues in that direction, I agree."

"And you won't mistake informality for insolence?"

"I do not think that is possible, I do not think any salary could produce such a mistake"

"Humbug, anyone will collapse under the pressure of money. But I mentally shake hands for your answer, it was very clever, despite its flaws. What it lacks in substance you make up for it in frankness and sincerity. You do not see this openness in manner, it is all stupid, coarse minded, affectation and contrary manners of response. Not many girls your age would produce such a thing as you just have. This is not flattery, you just sit within a different place than your peers. I am sure you too have defects enough."

Jane recalled thinking that it was the same for him, he too must have faults enough to balance out the rest of his being. His had caught her eye as she thought this and he understood what meaning lay there. "You are right, I have plenty of faults. I have liked a colourful life, that which makes my past a thing of disrepute. I was put on the wrong track at 20, and from there have never recovered. I envy you, you have a clean mind that has not yet been polluted with the strain of life."

"What was your memory like at 19?"

"I was your equal, I was educated, or almost so, a good man for the most part. I am no villain, and you are not to believe me so. Misguided maybe, but nothing more, due to my circumstances. You must learn to keep secrets when they are told to you, to keep them locked away within your chest."

"How can I when I lack knowledge.

"Because I am to tell you, and I am sure others will confide in you in future." He had replied. "When fate wronged me, I did have the wisdom to remain cool and calm, I became desperate and broken and I degenerated. No simpleton can have had it worse than I, and I confess that I am on his level. I wish I had stood firm, and I give you this advice Miss. Dread remorse when you are tempted, remorse is a poison that shall eat away at you."

"Repentance is said to be a cure."

"It is no cure, reformation may be a cure, but reform that I may, I have no strength to hold to it since I am cursed, burdened and hampered. Yet I have a right to seek pleasure, and get it come what may. I shall have pleasure in life, cost what it may."

"Then you shall degenerate further still."

"That is possible. Yet why should I care, if I can taste pleasure, sweet and fresh. Like fresh honey that a bee makes."

"You will get stung."

"How would you know? Yu have not tried. Yet how serious and solemn you look. You have no right to preach to me, you have not even passed through the realms into adulthood. How ignorant you are of life and it's mysteries."

"I remind you of your owns words, sir, error brings remorse, and remorse the poison of life."

"Who speaks of error now? I think it was more my inspiration than temptation, it was genial and soothing. I know that- and lo! It is no devil, I assure you. Because it has put on robes of an angel of light, and I think I must open my heart to it when it calls on me. "

"Distrust it, it is not a true angel."

"Again, you do not know, by what measure do you distinguish the devil from a messenger of god? Guide or seducer?"

"Judging from your appearance and mannerisms, you seemed troubled when it came back to you. You will become miserable if you continue."

"It bears a message, the best in the world. As to the rest, you do not keep my mind or heart, so don't fret on my behalf. My angel shall come and I shall embrace it, see now it comes to me." He held out his arms and embraced it, an invisible creature. "Ah I have received it, and it has already done my heart good."

"I don't understand you at all, one minute we speak of mistakes and their consequences, the pain and anguish of one soul, to something not logical, not thoughts at all. The ravings of a madman. I understand the loss of perfection in a person, regretting your own imperfection. It seems to me that if you tried, you could find yourself improved with time. Find your strength and resolve and make it so, in a few years it may be truth, and you may return to pleasure."

"Wisely said, and it is just now that I pave the road with my good intention."

"What?"

"Durable good intent, Miss Eyre, good intent that shall endure better."

"Better than?"

"You doubt me as I doubt myself, yet I know what my aim is and my motives, and I pass a law that both are correct."

"That cannot be, you have to pass legislation."

"They are right and true with verified stature. Unheard of combinations and have unheard of rules."

"That sounds dangerous, and liable to abuse of some sort."

"You are sententious! I swear I shall not abuse it."

"You are just as fallible as the rest."

"I am, are you not?"

"A human that is fallible should not have power such as that, should not arrogate such power, something divine and perfect should be left safely trusted."

"What power?"

"Anything strange and unsanctioned course of action. 'let it be right'"

"The very words, you have said them."

"May it be right, then." Jane had risen then, her mind unsettled as the conversation turned down a road she did not enjoy.

"Where are you going?"

"It is past Adele's bedtime."

"You are afraid of me."

"Strange language has been used, but I am not afraid."

"You are so afraid, you reek of it in your blunder."

"I am apprehensive simply because I have no desire to talk nonsense."

"If you did I am sure it would be in the same grave manner you talk sense with. Do you never laugh, Miss Eyre, don't answer, I can see you do not but rarely. But I am sure you can laugh, and heartily. You are no more naturally austere than I am naturally viscous. You have been shuffled into a corner where you find safety within confinement behind emotional walls, as well as physical ones. You fear man, brother or otherwise, and so you do not speak freely, so not smile or produce sounds that are more natural to you. In time you may act naturally around me, for I find it impossible to be conventional around you, and then your looks and movement will have more vivacity and variety, I think. I see in you movement, a curious bird that peaks out through a cage, restless and captive, but if it were free, would soar high. You are still leaving?"

"It is nine."

"Adele has gone out of the room, you did not think I was watching her, but lo, you are mistaken. She will return, wearing her present no doubt. Wait and see how the miniature of Celine Varens comes, like she used to rise out of the-never mind. My tender feelings will now be shocked, so stay, and see how it affects me."

The little girl did run in, wearing her new dress, her legs in tights and feet wearing white sandals. She twirled and gushed, spinning for him on her toes and then dropping to the floor and said something in French, which prompted his response. "Pre-cise-ly!" he said to the child, "- and that is how she charmed all of my money out of my English pocket. You see, I have been green too, Miss Eyre, and the green grass that freshens you used to freshen me.. My spring, is gone, and has left me with a French flower in my care, with no care to its roots where it sprang up, but attracted to money, I have found myself caring for the thing, even when it is artificial. More for recovering from my sins, one good work at a time, as it once was said. Maybe I shall tell you all this someday. Good-night."

Jane lay on her bed, going over the event of that night like a bad dream, yet she was so transfixed by it. Getting into bed, she sighed, she did not understand him at all, and he was like a faraway creature that had landed on earth with such peculiar notions. As she let sleep overtake her, she found herself uneasy, as if a sinister force was watching her in the night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Here is a fluffy chapter I made up for you all! I hope you enjoy! And thank you for the reviews, I really enjoy getting feedback!**

"His presence in a room was more cheering than the brightest fire."  
― Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre_

The steady constant footfalls of her feet on the ground helped her push on, the sounds of the air, the smell of the trees and the gloomy house behind her. She panted as she stopped, walking back towards the house, as she looked up she thought she saw a figure watching her from the roof, but she blinked and it was gone, and Jane shivered. More than once in her stay had she felt like someone was watching her, a dark oppressive feeling that haunted her dreams. Even her dreams betrayed her, the man crept in as well, those dark eyes watching her within the corner of her mind, as if he could sense she was dreaming of him in some small way.

As she neared the house, she wiped her head as the sun was higher in the shy but the chill did not touch her. Taking off her shoes at the backdoor, Jane walked up the stairs slowly, her body tired from the run. The bathroom near her room was down the corridor, when the house was rebuilt it was not fashioned with modern commodities. The previous Mr. Rochester had installed six bathrooms, one by the kitchen and one on the main floor, two on the second floor for guests and two in the servant's quarters of old. For whatever reason, her room was in this long corridor that extended far too long in the dark. And there were not showers, just a toilet and sink. The baths were old styled marble tubs, which one had to manually fill with hot water.

Jane stared at the tub, her muscles ached but smelling was not an option either. Grabbing a large pail from storage, she headed back down the stairs to the kitchen. Filling the old cauldron that hung over the fire with water, she then filled all the pots she could find and put water in them and waited for the boiling point. Leaning against the counter, she closed her eyes and looked up, rubbing a cramp in her neck. Her lips parted in a groan of pain as she squeezed her muscles, hitting a tender spot in her lower neck she sucked in air quickly. Making a small noise, she massaged it once more, squeezing her eyes tightly.

"So that is where that shirt went." A voice growled and Jane's eyes flashed open, looking in the direction of the voice, seeing her employer. Jane's mind quickly found the reason her spoke such, and looked down at the shirt. She had been so used to wearing it sleeping, it became a part of her wardrobe and used when needed. She felt a heat on her cheeks and she closed her lips tightly, clenching her teeth. "Jane Eyre with nothing to say?"

"It was lent to me." She replied stiffly, as the steam began to rise off the cauldron and his eyes flickered to the stove and the fire. Pushing herself off the counter, she grabbed oven mitts and walked over to check it. Long strides followed her and a hand blocked her way. "You can not lift it."

"I shall." She replied stiffly.

"It was not a question Miss. Eyre." He said softly, taking the mitts from her. "I assume you are drawing a bath." Jane nodded as she stepped back as he lifted the heavy iron pot, and she watched him from behind. He was wearing a dress shirt of royal blue, his muscles seemed to ripple under the fabric as he lifted the pot, pouring the water into her pail. She was aware of the rounded tone of his biceps, the movement of muscle in his back under the fabric. Tucking her head downward, she waited until he had finished and thanked him. "You intend to carry this upstairs?" He asked as the girl gripped the handle.

"Yes."

"I will carry it for you." He said, removing her hands from the pail as he grasped it. The water on the stove began to whistle and she turned her head in its direction. "Go, tend to it, I shall return forthwith." Jane nodded, there was no arguing with him. As she turned off the burners, she her mind wandered back to his form there, his touch still burned on her hands where his warmth was much greater than hers. She rubbed her hands together, holding them over the steam as the hot air surrounded her skin. His footsteps marked his return and she grasped the pot holders and turned, her eyes scanning him. His hair had grown much since he had returned, it curled more as it got longer and he looked much like a gypsy. His eyes regarded her and a smile formed on his lips quickly followed by a smirk. "Here, fill it. I work for you now."

Jane regarded him carefully and poured the water from the pots into the pail, the hot water would be just enough, but the look on his face indicated his was not pleased. "Is something wrong sir?"

"Is this all you are using?" He growled, his eyes watching her from his position by the door.

"I do not need more."

"This barely fills half the tub Miss Eyre." He replied.

"It is enough for me, those tubs are far too large." She replied as she poured in the last pot of water. Running cold water from the sink she began to cool the remaining pots off, aware that he was watching her intently.

"I do not understand you Miss Eyre." He said, "There is no shortage of water, yet you use so little. Are you so afraid of comfort?"

"I use only that I need." She replied, looking at the pale. "The water grows cold." He huffed and picked up the pale, walking upstairs. She smiled softly as he left, a chuckle in her throat.

"Utterly ridiculous." She said softly. When all the pots were finished, she walked up the stairs, passing him as he came out from the bathroom, pail in hand. "Thank you." He watched her slide past him, shutting the door softly as she did so. He smirked at the door, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head when the door opened again, an arm appearing holding his shirt.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"It is your shirt sir." She replied form behind the door. "You sounded attached to it."

"I am." He growled, his eyes seeing that she had not regarded the mirror that lay on the wall, he could see her clearly. "I appreciate the gesture, but I require you clean it first." He smiled as her eyes hit the mirror, the arm retracting and the door shut once more. "Shall I go get you more water Miss Eyre?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Part fluff, part book. Enjoy!**

"Returning, I had to cross before the looking-glass; my fascinated glance involuntarily explored the depth it revealed. All looked colder and darker in that visionary hollow than in reality: … the strange little figure there gazing at me, with a white face and arms specking the gloom, and glittering eyes of fear moving where all else was still, had the effect of a real spirit." - Jane Eyre

Jane was more aware than before about the acute heat on her cheeks whenever he came into the room, and she disliked her own discomposure. She sat just as still, her lips neutral as she could make them, and looked everywhere but at him. He had not bothered her, and she had left the shirt folded in his study for him, clean as a whistle. Today was Saturday, Adele had been doing well and she had agreed to have some fun with the child as reward. Adele had coming running into her room early in the morning, taking her hand, Jane being not awake nor dressed in proper clothing, and pulled her down into the study. There was a cd player, and Jane rubbed sleep from her eyes as the child put a cd rom in it. Jane guessed it was battery powered, since there was no cord.

Adele jumped out and down, Jane stretched, moving slightly to the introduction to the music. She wore a tank top and shorts for her sleep wear, her hair reflected a major case of bed head, but it was just the two of them in the room.

_WHOA! I feel good!_

Jane mock sang, Adele did the same, as Jane pushed her hair up with her hands as she twisted her hips. Moving toward the little girl, she moved her shoulders to the music and sang along, the little girl dancing alongside her.

_I feel good  
I knew that I would now  
I feel good, I knew that I would now  
So good, so good  
I got you _

Jane pointed at the girl, and child pointing back as they danced now hand in hand to the beat around the room. A smile flashed across Jane's face, the pale look replaced with a rosy glow.

_I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
So nice, so nice  
cause I got you_

Jane picked the child up, spinning her in her arms, Adele's arms around her neck as they spun.

_When I hold you in my arms  
I know that I can do no wrong  
When I hold you in my arms  
My love won't do you no harm_

She put Adele down, and they jumped around with the song. Jane sang along with the tune, making jazz hands like she had done in drama class. As Adele sank to the couch, dizzy, Jane did the movements for her, putting on a show.

_I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
So nice, so nice  
cause I got you_

_When I hold you in my arms  
I know that I can't do no wrong  
When I hold you in my arms  
My love can't do me no harm_

_I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
I feel nice, like sugar and spice  
So nice, so nice  
I got you_

_I feel good  
I knew that I would now  
I feel good, I knew that I would  
So good, so good  
I got you_

Jane did a move and froze, saying the lyric, pushing her hair up and doing a pose, making the little girl laugh. She walked toward the child slowly, singingly along as the girl giggled.

_So good, so good  
but I got you_

_So good, so good  
that I got you_

Jane struck the final pose, and Adele clapped for her as the next song started. Jane heard clapping from behind her and she froze, her face turning red as Adele ran towards Mr. Rochester. "Is this what you call teaching, Miss Eyre?" He growled, his eyes on her and she felt them, and she wrapped her arms around her chest.

"Today is a holiday." She replied flatly, turning around and waking toward him. He did not move, leaning against the doorway in casual wear. Jane clenched her teeth, trying to look past him as he blocked her way. "May I go back to my room?"

"You want to leave so soon J-Miss Eyre." He asked, cocking his head to one side and looking her up and down. "Is your holiday done so soon?"

"I am cold." She said, forcing the scowl away from her face. He smirked at her, looking past her to something. He held up a finger and walked past her, opening something and closing it, Jane did not care to know.

"Here." He said, holding an object up to her, "Put this on and stay here. Don't run out on this little holiday." Jane eyed the sweater, a hoodie from some foreign place, and grasped it with caution. "Come now Miss Eyre, it is not a snake going to bite you." She eyed him quickly, trying to guess if this was a joke, but looked away and took the thing and he chuckled. "Are you afraid of me Miss Eyre? You have barely said three words to me since-"

"I have had nothing to say." She replied, pulling the hoodie over her head, having turned away from him.

"Jane Eyre with nothing to say," He growled, chuckling as he turned the music up by Adele's request. Jane turned, watching the girl dance to some song she seemed to adore. "Surely such a simple thing cannot have distressed you." She said nothing, clasping her hands behind her as she stood watching Adele. "Miss Eyre, you are blushing."

"I do not find this amusing." She replied, and she looked at the window. "I must ask to leave."

He narrowed his eyes at her, his lips twitched and he held up a hand. "I shall saw no more, stay, please." Jane looked at him from beneath lowered eyelashes, swallowing and shaking her head as she walked over to that direction. The song changed and a slow song came on, and a hand was held before her and she looked at it blankly. He huffed and moved his fingers, "Yes, Miss Eyre, it is attached. Will you dance?"

She looked at it for a while longer, and he growled and took her hand, pulling her close and moving to the music. Jane looked away, turning her head to look at the bookcase on the far wall. "Adele's mother was an opera singer." Jane blinked, looking back at him quickly with no general expression than surprise. "Ah yes Miss Eyre, I had a great passion for the lady, and I thought like a fool she returned it. I even believed myself to idol, ugly as I am." He moved her around the room, and Jane listened, her expression unchanged. "I paid for her to live in a hotel, personal attendants, cars, diamonds, and cashmeres. I was on the road to ruin just for a women. I was unoriginal, Miss Eyre. One day I called when she did not expect me, and she was out, so I waited, enjoying the smells of the place, the air she breathed.

"She had no purity about her, no virtue. Just the smell of musk and amber that was her perfume. It became overwhelming and I stepped out, smoking a cigar as I often do. I recognized her coat, for I had given it to her, across the street. My heart leapt with excitement at her return, but I saw a man step out of a car, kiss her and turn toward the hotel, running.

"Now you might not have felt jealous before, and I am inclined to believe you have not since you do not know love. Yet a time will come when you shall know both, one as ugly as the other good. You think all existence lapses in as quiet a flow that in your youth has hitherto slipped away. Floating with closed eyes and muffled ears, you neither see the rock bristling not far off in the bed of the flood, nor hear the breakers boil at their base. But the day shall come I tell you – and you mark my works - you will come some day to a craggy pass in the channel, where the whole life's stream will be broken up into whirl and tumult, foam and noise: either you will be dragged to ashes on crag points, or lifted up and borne on some master-wave into a calmer current – as I am now."

Jane gave him a strange look, not being able to read his eyes well. "Did you leave the balcony?"

"Ah I had forgotten. Well, I should have, but I felt the green snake within me, making its way to my heart. It is strange that I should confide this to you, you strange creature. I wonder if it is because of your graveness, considerateness and caution in way of secrets. How unlike a man such as I, with an opera girl for a mistress to tell you stories, you such an innocent child. I know your mind, and it is equal to my own, it shall not become infected, for it is unique and peculiar. You refresh me yet."

"Sir?"

"Ah, the balcony. I remained, I thought they would come up to the room, her bed and belongings. I prepared an ambush by closing the curtains and the door slightly, so I could hear and see. The lovers came in, her glad in the very silks and jewels I had given to her. He was a military, I knew him slightly from the club. As soon as I saw him, I was no longer jealous. Any woman that could betray me with a man like that was not worth loving. She had duped me, and I was the fool for it. Something of mine was on the table and they spoke of me, insulted me with what language they knew, neither were as educated as you or I. It was then I opened the doors, and liberated her from my protection. She was to rid herself from the hotel followed by her disregarded screams, hysterics, prayers, protestations, and convulsions. I gave the man a black eye, and some broken ribs the next time I saw him.

"I found out six months later that she was pregnant with Adele, which I can not tell if it is true or not. She looks nothing like me, Pilot is closer in looks than she. Some years after I left her, she left Adele alone, ran off with a musician or singer. I do not claim to be her father, nor do acknowledge the claims made, but I could not leave her there, so very destitute. I pulled her out of the slime and mud of the poor grounds of Paris and took her here, transplanted her so she could grow. Mrs. Fairfax found you to aid her, but now that you know of her history, you might change your mind." The song had ended and Jane pulled away, rubbing her arm as she thought. "You will come to tell me you desire a new post."

"No, it is not her fault. She did not choose her mother or father. She cannot answer for your faults, or her mothers. She is forsaken-" Jane looked at him, maintaining his eye contact. "-by both her mother and by you, I shall cling to her like never before. I could not lean towards a spoilt heiress, who would view me with hate. A tiny orphan who regards me as a friend is much better."

"You view it in such a light." He said, crossing his arms as he leaned on a nearby desk. "What a strange creature you are Miss Eyre. You dance like you are out of a movie, yet you speak and act like a nun."

"Sir?" Mrs. Fairfax called, "Your agent's here!"

"Ah that is my cue Miss Eyre." He stood, turning the music off as he walked back, his smell wafting to her as he passed, and the cologne he used made her senses tingle. He paused as he passed her, he could see the rosy hue on her cheeks, her long hair unruly and untamed as it surrounded her face and down her back. "Thank you for the dance, Miss Eyre." He left the room, and she felt where his hand had held hers and she took a breath.

How strong he was. His muscles had seemed to firm when her fingers touched his shoulder, and hands were strong. She felt the heat on her cheek rise again, deepening the look on her face. She lightly slapped her cheeks, closing her eyes as she turned around. Admiring men was not her job, nor was finding them attractive, mysterious and captivating. _Get a hold of yourself Jane._ She thought, rushing upstairs to her room to change.


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: All belongs to CB, and is a tribute to her work. Many lines are direct quotations, so if you recognise it, that is why. A modern twist on a classic. Enjoy!_

_"I do not think, sir, you have any right to command me, merely because you are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world than I have; your claim to superiority depends on the use you have made of your time and experience."  
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre_

Jane sat in her room, the day's events had proved relatively mundane aside from the morning's activities. It was then that she really thought about what the tale relayed to her. It struck her that is the child _had_ resembled Mr. Rochester then chances were he would have favored her more. Another point worth mentioning, or justifying, was that many Englishmen of titles often kept mistresses; history was full of them. This did not mean it was void of trouble or that this fact made it morally correct, but it was indeed a fact. Mr. Rochester was no different than many of his forefathers, embracing the romanticised dancer or singer in a wave of heated passion. Jane noted that there had been a strange sort of change in him, his description of emotion, all within the context of telling her such a secret.

Jane did not understand why he took her into his confidence, she was nothing to him but a young employee, and he seemed to take great pains in making her uncomfortable. As she dressed for bed, she looked at the set of clothes she had been wearing and frowned. She did not want to wear _this_ to bed, not after he had seen her in it. He entered her dreams enough as it is, she did not need to fuel to fire. She retrieved a nightgown, a gift upon graduating school from Miss Temple, it was knee length and lacy. Both feminine and sultry, though Jane had no knowledge of it being such, it was tied to her shoulders through thin straps of delicate lace, connecting to the rest. It had been an odd gift, some at expressed it being such, but to Jane it was the first truly feminine thing she had ever received, and owned subsequently.

She remembered walking down a small street, sharing the moment with Miss Temple as they drank coffee, and her attention had been drawn to a small shop. It was almost a bygone creation, this lacy white nightdress in the window, but Jane had fallen in love with it. Jane smiled to herself at the memory, it was the day Miss Temple had told her of the engagement, and Jane had been thrilled for her. The one person who truly cared for her, nurtured her and protected her while the rest of the world walked by in ignorance. Jane had never been so thrilled to receive a gift, being that gift were few and far between, and treasured this creation more than anything. The nightgown came also with a cover, a matching white lacy housecoat that served no purpose than to look very pretty, but it gave Jane an empowered feeling to embrace her own femininity.

Jane was not aware that she talked very little around him, or that she enjoyed his speeches immensely. She was aware that he was knowledgeable, he liked to open a mind to an unacquainted world; scenes and glimpses that were not all corrupt. These new ideas interested her greatly, provided new images to explore within her drawings, and never startled or troubled by one noxious allusion. He was easy in his manner, he was frank and cordial but altogether friendly which in turn drew her to him, as draw by a connection unseen as kindness. Jane found that she often forgot he was her employer, something she was loathe to admit, he seemed to treat her more as an equal, perhaps a relative. He was no less imperious, but that did not bother her, it was his way. It was this that made life fun again, Jane found herself seeing things in colour once more, no bound by black and grey within dress and life.

He was not ugly in her eyes, and as she dwelt on it, determined that she found him pleasurable to look at, genial, his face was the object she liked to see best. His mere presence was more welcoming and warm than the largest fire. Jane was aware of his faults, he flaunted them regularly to her; _he is proud, sardonic, harsh to inferiority of every description, his attention to me it balanced by this, it seems. Moody, very moody, if I admit, he often wants me to come and read to him, which is something I do not understand, and I often find him alone in the study, face bent towards his arms, and looking with a malignant scowl on his features. This moodiness, harshness and former faults,- are they truly former? He does seem different lately, like he has made an effort to correct them – must be from some harsh, twist of fate. He has principles and high ones at that, he is educated, well educated, and I think he must have some purer tastes- all of which would have shown had not fate twisted his nature. There is much good in him, and it seems such a same to see it wasting away. I grieve for him, even if he will not grieve for himself. _

Jane found her mind running as she lay in bed, all these thoughts and explanations, twists and turns. Her young mind, however knowledgeable for nineteen, was not truly aware of everything around her. She wondered if and when he would leave once more, the thought pained her but Mrs. Fairfax had said he goes away often and rarely stays here. _What if he leaves before spring, and is gone through summer? How dull everything shall turn, joyless sunshine even on a fine day._

Closing her eyes, she drifted into a fitful sleep. Dreams of strange murmurs and laughter, dark scenes and a small boy running after her. _Where are you rat?_ Echoed throughout, and she felt the fear as she hid behind the curtain, clutching the book as a life link to a different world. Small, frail and thing was her plight, with a pasty complexion and freckles. **_Jane. _**The boy, one of three awful cousins, was holding a rod, a tool he frequently used against her, his footsteps moving along the floor. Jane tried not the make a noise, yet there it was, a whimper from her lips. _ Where is she? The animal, has she run out into the rain? _Jane knew she should reveal herself, lest being discovered. **_Jane._** In the back of her mind, she heard a laughter that unnerved her, a face blending with her cousins as she stepped out from her hiding place. This pudgy faced boy with mean eyes looked at her, given private tutoring and more food than should be allowed, grinned with malice.**_ Jane._** Jane shivered, the murky laughter seeing in once more as she approached the child as he sat in an armchair. It was like that, this dark room with this fearsome creature of her childhood, the sudden strike from him as a loud laughter made her sit straight up.

Jane panted, her heart racing with many types of fear. She grabbed her phone and shone the light about – nothing. The room was dark and eerie, and Jane wished there was a lamp she could keep on, or a plug in for a nightlight. She caught her breathe and panted, trying to sleep again, but dreams of the red room haunted her dreams, a voice whispering her name over and over within the horror, like a plea for her. She woke many times, fitful and uneasy, until a clock struck in the hall and she jumped. Cursing that infernal old clock, she counted, two in the morning. As she lay there, she suddenly was aware of the door being touched, as if fingers had grasped or swept by the panels in a groping way outside, then touching the handle as if to enter. "Who is there?" She called, her heart racing in her ears. Nothing, not a peep of any living thing.

"Pilot." She breathed, "He often comes up here to Mr. Rochester's room, I have seen him in the morning outside his door. How silly." She spoke, her words sounded hollow but none the less comforting. She lay back down, resolved to have sleep. And a dream seemed to come quickly, alas not to be as a sound so frightening that is made her blood and bones turn to ice.

A laugh, low and demonic; supressed and deep, uttered so near, like it had been pressed through the keyhole and into her ear. The bed was near enough to the door to make the sound seem amplified, and Jane froze, unsure whether it was a creature of the forest, the very things that came from nightmares and other dimensions, lurked at her bedside or crouched by her pillow. Jane rose, seeing nothing still when the sound came again. It was outside, right outside her door, the very panels shook with it. Jane ran to the door, bolting it quickly. "Who is there?"

A gurgle, a moan, followed by long steps that made towards the third floor where a door opened and closed via a staircase. _Grace Poole? Grace Poole possessed by a demon? _Jane shivered and grabbed her cover, deciding that Mrs. Fairfax needed to know, call a priest or something, anything. Removing the bolt, Jane entered the hallway after putting on her housecoat, turning to go to Mrs. Fairfax when she saw a candle burning outside her door. She picked it up carefully, it was small, like it had been burning for some time. The aim was dim, she realized, and she looked around in a puzzled state when she smelt something burning.

Turning her head, she saw a door slightly open with smoke leaking from it. That was the door of Mr. Rochester, and Grace Poole, the demon and Mrs. Fairfax were no longer on her mind. Like magic, she was within the chamber after blowing out the candle she had found; fire flamed around the bed, the large canopy ablaze as well of the curtains surrounding it. Her employer lay stretched out, naked, on the sheets in a deep sleep.

"Wake up!" Jane cried, touching his shoulders and shaking him as she fought the smell of smoke within her lungs. "Wake! Wake!" He murmured and turned, the smoke had rendered him lifeless. There was a basin of water, the man had more affinity for old things than anyone she had ever met, and she was glad to find that both the basin and the ewer were filled with water. Picking them up, she hurled the water at the bed, splashing both the flames and the man. It was not enough. In a panic Jane flew to her own room, grabbing her water from her room; a pitcher, a basin and a pot full from the last rain which had leaked in, and added that to the flames. She added it to the flame, and it quenched it at last.

"Is there a flood?" The man growled, finding himself in a puddle of water, and she looked about the room. It was dark, the hiss of the extinguished element lingered.

"No." She croaked, the smoke from the fire had caused her voice to flee. "A fire, but it's gone and you are quenched. I shall get some light."

"In the name of all the elves in Christendom, is that Jane Eyre?" He demanded, "What have you done with me, you witch, sorceress? Who else is here, aiding you in drowning me?"

"Let me find a lamp, but please get up. Someone has been in here sir, but not me, and lit your room ablaze."

"There!" He growled, "I am up. I warn you against a light just yet, if you insist I fear you may regret it. Let me at least dress myself." Jane froze and she turned away in the darkness, her cheeks hot from the fire and a burning within. "Ah yes, this will do." He pulled on something, shorts most likely, or pants. "Go for your lamp girl." Jane did, she ran for her lantern within her room, lighting it and returning. He took the lamp and held it up, looking at bed, it was black and scorched, the sheets drenched and the carpet was swimming in what.

"What is it? And who did it?" He asked.

Jane told him what had happened, every detail but leaving out her own nightmares. The laugh she described in the most detail, because it had scared her so. She told to him of the candle outside her room, his door open and the smoke, the room ablaze and the water she had gone and grabbed as quickly as her feet would allow. His face was grave, and grew wore as the story progressed, but not out of astonishment, but concern. He did not speak when she was done, and she felt restless as his eyes took in the girl before him.

She was unaware of her possession having being blackened with smoke, slight burn marks where flame had come to close to its owner. Her face was slightly grew from smoke as well, her hands too where the flames had reached. He saw all acutely, and was very aware of the danger she had placed herself in, ignorant that she was of it.

"Shall I get Mrs. Fairfax?"

"Heavens, what for? There is nothing she can do, let her sleep."

"John or Leah maybe?"

"Be still." He said, his voice soft in a way she had never heard. He placed the lantern on the dresser that was nearby and he strode over somewhere and picked something up that she could not see. He returned and wrapped a blanket around her, "You can not be warm enough in your – shawl. Take this and sit in that armchair there, place your feet on the footrest so they do not get wet. I am going to leave for a few minutes, I shall take the lantern or lamp, whichever you prefer to call it. Stay here, do not move a muscle. I shall pay a visit to the second story." He stood after she had been placed in the armchair safely, and grasped the lantern. "Remember, do not move. And don't call out."

Jane was left in total darkness, the singed smell lingered among a new damp smell she did not like. She heard footsteps, his, and they echoed in the hall towards to the second floor, or third floor? She no longer knew what was up or down, exhaustion crept where adrenaline had been. Time elapsed, it was long and she felt her eyelids heavy and her body cold, despite the blanket. She wished to be in her own room once more, but did not want to risk her employer's displeasure. There were footfalls, and she stirred, hoping that it was not the demon returned.

He entered and she was aware he was gloomy, pale. "I know all now, it is much as I thought." He stated setting the lantern down on the dresser once more.

"How?"

He said nothing, his arms folded as he stood watching the ground. "I can not recall if you said you saw someone when you opened your door."

"I did not, just the candle."

"And a laugh, yes, and odd laugh?" He questioned, "You have heard it before I think, or something like it."

"Yes, when I arrived here. Grace Poole laughs like that. She is elderly, I believe."

"Ah yes, Grace Poole. You have guessed what has occurred then, and are right." He nodded, not looking in her direction. "The only people to know are within this room, and it must stay this way. You are no talking fool, say nothing. I shall account for the state of affairs. Go back to your room, I can sleep well on the sofa in the library. It is almost four, many will be up soon." The fact was true, everyone rose early in this house for there was so much to do.

"Goodnight then." Jane responded, placing the blanket on the chair and moving towards the door.

He seemed surprised, which struck her as odd since he had just told her to leave.

"What?" He asked, "You would leave me so abruptly? Just quit me, and so soon?"

"You told me to go." She countered, facing him.

"Yes, but not with no words between us, no acknowledgement of good will. Not so-so-short and dry, cut and run sort of fashion. Jane, you have saved my life! – snatched me from a horrible and excruciating death!" He looked at her keenly then, his eyes searching her face. "Yet you walk past like we are strangers. We must at least shake hands."

He held out his hand, and Jane looked it much like she had in the room when they had danced. She placed her own in his, and he clasped both hands around it. "You have saved my life. I take pleasure in owing you such a debt. I can say nothing more, nothing else will suffice. I could not tolerate such a debt to any other creature but you, and you alone. I feel your benefits no burden, Jane."

He seemed to stare, gaze at her face and his eyes lingered on her lips, their faces seemed closer than at the start. Jane saw words dancing on his lips that he did not say, and he checked himself. "Goodnight again then. There is no debt, no burden you speak of, or obligation."

"I knew-" He said in a breathless whisper, "-you would do me some good in some way at some time; I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you: their expression and smile did not –" He stopped, once more his gaze lingered on her and she felt a pull within her to get closer to him, to enact a scene that had happened within her dreams that she felt ashamed to remember. "-did not-" He said quickly, "-strike delight to my inner most heart for nothing. People talk of natural sympathies; I have heard of good genies – and there is some truth in the wildest fantasy. My cherished-" His words seem to slow, and she found herself holding her breathe, "-preserver, good night." Such a strange energy about him, a fire within his looks.

"I am glad I happened to be awake." She responded, turning to leave.

"What?!" He exclaimed softly, "You will go?"

"I am cold." She said, her voice seemed not her own, a whisper with words she had meant to be strong.

"Cold? You are standing in a pool of water, but of course you are. Go, Jane." He said, but his hands did not release her and she was finding herself reluctant to leave. Their eyes held a gaze that lingers for too long and too close to one another and Jane fought it, this whole scenario was wrong.

"I heard Mrs. Fairfax stir." She said, needing an excuse.

"Ah, well go then." He said, relaxing his hands and releasing her. She left the room, her feet walking quickly and then running back to her room, shutting the door and locking it behind her, her hands on the coldness of the wood, her heart once more in her ears. His warmth had flooded her, his nearness startled her, the look in his eyes – a strange creature named desire. And it frightened her that she had returned such emotion so readily. She went to the bed, not thinking of sleep but entering into a fit of dreams that were stormy and passionate, and she found them almost as unnatural and frightening as she found herself wanting them.

**And that Ladies and Gents, is a good way to start a Monday morning! XD **


	11. Chapter 11

"Flirting is a woman's trade, one must keep in practice."  
― Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre_

Jane woke out of her feverish sleep and had dressed quickly, the excitement of the early morning still lingered. She wanted to see him, but was in a state of fear at doing so. Jane started the day as normal, Adele was in the little school room with her teacher, whose nerves were rattling like a prisoner in a cage. Jane half expected Mr. Rochester to come in, and she imagined him having done so many times, yet he did not appear. This heightened anticipation lingered throughout the morning and into the afternoon. Nothing extraordinary occurred, and the illusive nature of the main character of these events bothered Jane.

As Jane retreated to her room after teaching, she heard noises from Mr. Rochester's room, a hustle and bustle as it where. Leah, Mrs. Fairfax, John and his wife all seemed within the general area of his room. The people were not inside, but coming and going, voices lingering in the halls as they walked in several directions. Jane walked over, listening to the voices as she waited at the door, deciding which course of action to take.

"Lucky he wasn't burnt alive."

"I don't know why he insists on keeping candles lit, dangerous it is."

"How quick thinking it was to fetch a water jug."

"I wonder why-" A short faint giggle was heard, "-he woke no one."

"I just hope he won't catch a cold down in that cold sofa, awful draft."

Jane opened the door slightly, the door swinging inwards as she looked around. Everyone seemed to be cleaning up the blackened residue of the incident. Everything had already been replaced, scent lingered to replace the smells of singed fabric, and all that remains was the smoke on the glass, which Leah was cleaning. The curtains had not been replaced yet, but as Jane turned to face Leah, she faltered, seeing who was in charge of the new curtains. Grace Poole. The very creature was sitting before her in an old gown and apron, even wearing a cap- which suggested the women did not leave the past or her bed for much longer than was needed.

She was indeed calm for a woman who had just attempted murder on her employer, and Jane found it hard to bear. Jane could not understand why this person, who had just been confronted that very morning of her crime, was still present here. The woman looked up at Jane, nothing about her countenance suggested any fear, guilt or any particular emotion at all. Jane decided then, seeing this lack of repentance, to test the women. "Good day Grace." She started, "Has anything happened here? I thought I heard people talking together not long ago?"

"The master was reading in his bed last night; he fell asleep with a candle lit and the curtains caught on fire. Good thing he woke before the bed clothes or the woodwork caught, and he quenched the flames with a water jug."

"What a strange affair." Jane replied in a low voice, looking around before looking back at the woman. "Did Mr. Rochester wake no one? Did no one hear him move?"

Grace looked at her with eyes that showed much recognition, examining Jane before speaking again. "Us servants sleep far away from here Miss. We would not be likely to hear. You and Mrs. Fairfax sleep closest. But when gets old, sleep becomes rather heavy." The woman paused, then added on to her statement, a different tone to her words. "But young people never sleep heavily, Miss, and I should say you are a light sleeper. Perhaps you heard something."

"I did." Jane said, lowering her voice. "I thought it was Pilot at first, but Pilot can not laugh. I am certain I heard a laugh, a strange unearthly laugh."

The woman took a new needleful of thread, threading it carefully. "I hardly think the Master would laugh while being burnt. You must have been dreaming."

"I was not dreaming." Jane said with new warmth in her voice, the woman's cold tone startled her. The woman was still watching her with such an eye to make Jane nervous under such scrutiny.

"Have you told the Master you heard a laugh?"

"I have not had the opportunity of speaking to him today." Jane replied.

"And you did not think of opening your door and looking out?"

Jane understood then this woman was questioning her for information, to catch her unaware. "No, I bolted the door."

"Is that your usual practise?" The woman asked her, "Perhaps before you go to bed."

Jane mused that this woman was trying to ascertain her habits, to change her behaviour accordingly. "No, not usually, I did not see the need nor the danger." Jane softened her look and lowered her voice. "Perhaps I shall from now own, especially before I sleep."

"It is a good idea. We are isolated here, and you never known when robbers might strike. Our antiques are worth much, and many of our items are pure silver. The Master does not live here often, so he does not understand. He thinks this house is safe from harm, because we are not advanced. You must take care to protect yourself, you never know when mischief may occur. You can never be too safe." The woman said, her tone changed and she retreated to a quaker like state. Jane stared at her dumbfounded, at this self-possession and hypocrisy.

"The servant's meal is being served Grace." The cook said, appearing in the room. Ready to come down?"

"No, thank you dear, I shall a small amount of port and pudding on a tray and I shall take it upstairs."

"Meat, miss?"

"A little, and a little cheese, if we have some."

"And sago?"

"Nevermind it, I shall be down shortly to make it."

"Very good. Miss Eyre, Mrs. Fairfax wants you."

Jane went where she was bid, and Jane pondered the reason why Grace would have been kept on. She was not young or handsome, so he would have had no temptation there. Could it be that she had once held power over Mr. Rochester in his youth, creating such an advantage over him? What caprice could it of been? Some sort of indiscretion?

Jane had to shake her head, these thoughts would only get her into trouble. She could not allow her imagination to run away. Jane curled up in the study with the sketch book, her mind far away from her draws and Adele's constant prying. She wondered why she had not seen the preverbal master all day. She had so many things to say, to ask and see how it was answered. What wicked secret did she hold over him? Why did her keep her wicked secret? It did not matter if it irritated him, she knew the pleasure of vexing then soothing his wounds. It was the best part of talking to him, and she was careful not to go too far.

"Ah Jane!" Mrs. Fairfax said, placing tea down on a small table. "Drink this dear, you ate so little at dinner. Are you well?"

"Quite well, I assure you."

"Yu must learn to eat more dear, or else you shall waste away."

"I eat enough, I promise."

"Alright, dear. Ah it is a nice night out, I am glad. It will make his journey better."

"Journey?" Jane asked, turning her attention to the woman. "Whose journey?"

"Why, Mr. Rochester's of course. He has gone to Leas, Eshton, Ingram, Lynn, and the Dents. He might be away from some time, he will probably stay at each place for days at a time. It is his duty after all, as a gentleman and friend. Also the ladies are very fond of him, although you would not think it to look at him. Wealth and good blood does that you know."

"There are ladies at each place?"

"Mrs. Eshton has three daughters, I think. Young and elegant. There are the two honourable Ingram girls, Blanche and Mary. They are most beautiful, and mature. Blanche I have not seen for some time, but she was a very pretty child. And I daresay, she was 18 when I saw her last, and she was the belle of the ball."

"Ball? You host balls?"

"Of course, three times a year as a part of the experience."

Jane stifled a groan as she thought of it, a bunch of people in a crowded room pretending to be from a different era. "What is she like?"

"Oh so accomplished, she sings, dances, has a very fine figure, a great head for figures, she went to Oxford you know. She has such noble features, lovely skin and hair; so curly and thick. She loves marvellous in all she wears." And Mrs. Fairfax continued, Jane frowned, a feeling stirring in her heart as the woman went on. "Oh and she is such a favorite with him too!"


	12. Chapter 12

"Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs."  
― Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre_

Jane sat in her room, her brain overheating. _Fool, how could you think that __**you**__, you were a favorite with him. __**You **__be a __**favorite**__ of his? __**You **__be of any important? Go, away with your folly, you sicken me. _She got up, pacing as she fumed. _You, deriving pleasure from…from….occasional tokens shown by a man, a gentleman of the world to a dependant and novice. How dare you!? Poor- stupid- dupe! _ Jane made a noise, like a frustrated whine as she rubbed her arms.

**"Blanche often sings with Mr. Rochester." **

_Could not even self-interest make you wiser?_

**"Oh she had such a rich and powerful voice, and she can play so very well. Mr. Rochester himself said so." **

_You repeated to yourself this morning the brief scene last night? – Cover your eyes and be ashamed!_

**"It is very fortunate that she is still unmarried, and has chosen for wait for the right person. She is good with figures, and she already knows Mr. Rochester, would it not be very fortunate if they were to marry?"**

_He said something in praise of your eyes, did he? Blind puppy!_

"**There is an age difference, he is nearly 40, and she is nearly 25."**

_Open their bleared lips and look on your own accursed selfishness!_

**"He should not entertain the idea, but men will follow their-….hearts." **

_It does good to no woman to be flattered by her superior, who cannot possibly intend to marry her; it is madness in all women to let a secret love kindle within them – it will destroy them. _

Jane stopped, rocking on her heels as she made a face and put her face into her hands. "Am I in love with him? No, it…is not true." She sank to her knees, soft sobs emerging as she wrestled with this. _Listen, Miss Jane Eyre, to your own sentence. Draw yourself tomorrow, as what you are. Plan, little, irregular. Write under it, Portrait of a Governess – disconnected, poor and plain. _

_And then, you shall draw Blanche Ingram, in all her glory as described. The beauty of her curls, the loveliness of her face and body. Dress her in the grandest finery, and write under it; Blanche, an accomplished lady of rank. _

_You shall do this, and whenever you feel fancy towards him, you take these two pictures and compare them. You shall state he is to woo and marry the lovely creature, not this insignificant plebeian! He would not waist even a thought on me. _

"Yes, I shall do it." Jane said, lowering her hands and lifting her face in resolve. Jane nodded, getting up and hastily sketching, her own portrait took an hour or two. Blanche's took much longer, and Jane took great pains in perfecting it. When she was done, she held it up and nodded, "It is exactly as it should be." Putting the drawings down, she crawled into bed at last, falling asleep. Little did she know how much she would rely on those drawings to h=make is through the times ahead, so unprepared was she.

/

A week passed, no news. Ten days, no news. Mrs. Fairfax said it was not unexpected, he might be gone for a year or more. Jane felt her soul crumpling at the thought of it, a chill within her heart and a large sense of disappointment. Jane composed herself time and time again, restraining her senses. _I have no right to care where and when he stays. You have nothing to do with him, aside from being paid to teach Adele. You should be grateful, just do your job and be grateful for it. He is not of your order, he out classes you, be respectful of it. _

Each day passed with the same mediocre notions, the same routines. He had been gone nearly two weeks when a letter arrived. Mrs. Fairfax looked at it, opening it quickly. "It is from Mr. Rochester." She read the contents and smiled, widely and with great joy as Jane poured her morning coffee. Her hand was shaking as she drank, much coffee enjoying the saucer rather than Jane herself. She did not want to acknowledge what reason was behind her body betraying her. "Well. Sometimes I think we are too quiet, but this is extreme. We shall have a full house!" She held the note out, adjusting her glasses.

Jane concentrated on her drink, before Adele came running in, needing help with her dress. Jane gladly helped her, as Mrs. Fairfax kept on reading. "I don't suppose he shall return soon then?" Jane asked, saying it very non chalantly.

"Indeed he is – three days. And he won't be coming alone. I am to acquire more people to play servants for the time they stay, oh- I shall have to go into the village. All guest rooms must be turned inside out – aired and dusted, fresh linens. More kitchen hands." The woman swallowed and rushed away somewhere. Jane watched the hallway as the woman moved back and forth, Leah nodded and ran out the backdoor. Mrs. Fairfax gathered her car keys and grabbed her coat from the closet.

"Can I help with anything?" Jane asked, feeling idle.

"Oh no dear, you just take care of Adele." The woman said, patting her hand as she opened the door. The woman stopped, and turned her head back, "Well, you can come with me, you can go into the local shop and pick up some sheets and linens while I gather other things."

Jane nodded, putting her coat on and instructing Adele on how to behave with her nurse. Getting into the car, she heard nothing but he beat of her own heart all the way to the village, indeed, it was the only sound she heard for the next three days.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Disclaimer - All belongs to CB. I can only pay homage to the master. Please read, review and enjoy!_**

**"I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wrap my existence about you–and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."  
― Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre_**

Her footsteps made soft noises on the grass, the slightly frost covered threads seems to crackle and crunch under her feet. Her lungs wanted to scream, the past three days had been hell. She had tried to block out her heart, yet a voice haunted her – dreaming provided no solace and consciousness made it worse. Her name, whispered over and over like a low murmur in the night, in the shadows, in each corner of that house. It was maddening, it was seductive – and in her heart she knew it was him. Maybe not as he was now, but it was him. A ghostly version of him, the past self he spoke of with such hated affection.

As she ran, the flat plain became forest, the branches hit her face and body – no pain or acknowledgement of the action. She pushed herself until she caught her foot on a tree root, hitting the ground and she didn't move. The tears she had been shedding lay on her face as she rolled over, looking up into the canopy. She heard her own breath – shuddering like a tiny bird as she tried to supress the tears. She had spent three days trying to ignore it, her feelings were unfounded and unwanted – and yet they persisted. Her soul fought against her mind and her heart strained against the bars of its cage.

She put her hands around her middle, curling up into a ball as she let the tears fall. How long would these infernal tears insist, plaguing her skin and eyes? As she lay on the ground, she became aware of the cold and knew she had lingered there too long. The throbbing in her knees and body had long gone. Standing, she walked back towards the house, feeling something warm on her face. She touched her cheek, and found a small amount of blood on her fingers. She sighed, she must look like a fright and they had company coming sometime today.

Jane was aware how busy the house was, many servants filled the rooms – happily playing the modern and past roles. She often wondered if Mr. Rochester had servants hiding within the house that she never saw, it was hard to believe that Leah and Mrs. Fairfax cleaned that whole place on their own most of the time. Reaching the back door, she opened it, the people around her seemed a blur as she walked up the stairs.

Jane sat in the library, reading after a day of teaching. Mrs. Fairfax sat by her, looking out the window every five minutes. Jane did not remember getting the water for the bath, or even having one. She also could not remember putting cover up on the scratch on her face, nor scrubbing her hands to free them from the dirt. "Oh here is John." Jane paused as she turned her page, not moving her eyes lest she spy him. "Any news?" Mrs. Fairfax called out the window, waving to John as she did so.

"Yes, they will be here in ten minutes – they are just coming up the drive."

Jane's heart seemed to beat in overtime, and ten minutes seemed like ten hours. Adele had suddenly appeared, flying to the window as Jane remained frozen. She started to move when prompted, being ushered to the kitchen, out of sight. Jane opened the kitchen door a crack, watching the hall way as people came in. People flooded the entrance way, and Jane was thankful for old housing designs- straight lines. "Miss Ingram!" Mrs. Fairfax called, rushing into Jane's view as she watched them, a grave look to her face. There were two very handsome men in the party, the first through the doors. Then a woman, she wore a purple hair piece that was exotic and elegant, with a short veil covering her face, tied into an elaborate hairstyle. The colour gleamed against the raven ringlets that were the lady's hair.

The party moved from the hall into a different room, and Jane shut the door as Adele fought against her. "Are you hungry Adele?" The child did not want to speak, but she did, admitting she was indeed hungry. Laughter and voices could be heard throughout the entire house, and Jane felt ill. She prepared a snack for Adele, and watched her eat it. Jane herself has no desire for food. The child ate tarts and chicken, sneaking glances at the door, as if a visitor was such to come in. After the food, Adele refused sleep, even though the hour grew late, and Jane agreed to tell her stories. Story after story, until Jane could no longer keep her own eyes focused on one point. Jane motioned her hand, helping the sleeping child towards the stair, where her nurse appeared and Jane was thankful. Staying behind to clean up the kitchen, she listened the joyous sounds in the next room. It was near one that the guests went to bed, Jane could hear from her room the sounds in the hall way. She slept then, her dreams fitful and unpleasant, dreams of ghosts and the red room mixed with that haunting laugh from so many days ago.

Awakening in the early morning, Jane ran down the stairs to the outside. She had studied her picture and the drawing of Miss Ingram, and she needed to get away. She pushed herself against the pain in her knee, no doubt bruised and maybe torn from the fall. Jane heard her own sounds; ragged breathing that hitched with supressed anger and sadness. As she turned a corner, she gasped and slipped, hitting the ground, a horse rearing as the man holding the reins swore. The servant apologized for startling her, and she shook her head. She saw more horses being moved from the stables, and she knew the party must be going riding – a thought which troubled her.

She brushed off the dirt and gravel, muttering about her own foolishness as she went back into the kitchen. She bathed and showered, a frown on her lips as she taught Adele that day. Jane's mind wandered, and it was noticeable to the child. But Adele said nothing, she was more preoccupied with watching the door of the school room, waiting for any news of her hero. Jane kept her as quiet as possible, until it was time for lessons to be over and Adele was allowed to go play outside.

Outside, she heard the sound of horses, and Jane made the mistake of looking out the library window. Mr. Rochester and his guest were riding past the house, and Jane sighed turning her head away. "Do you think he is really so fond of her? You said he would not marry soon, but it is clear he prefers her above all his guests."

"Yes, he admires her very much." Mrs. Fairfax responded.

"And she him." Jane replied, "Look how she leans her head towards him as if they were in silent conversation. I wish I could see her face, I have not had a glimpse of it yet."

"You will see her this evening." Mrs. Fairfax responded. "I happened to tell Mr. Rochester how much Adele wishes to be introduced to the ladies, and he said: "OH! Let her come into the drawing room after dinner; and let Miss Eyre accompany her."

"He was being polite, I am sure I need not go." Jane responded, her heart starting to pound in her ears; a wild sort of erratic beating.

"Well I did speak in your defense, you are so unused to company; I spoke to his better nature – they are all strangers and rich strangers. He replied – "Nonsense, if she objects, tell her it is my particular wish; and if she resists, say I shall come and fetch her in case of contumacy."

"I will not give him that trouble." Jane spoke softly, looking out the window once more. "I will go, if no better may be; but I don't like it. Shall you be there, Mrs. Fairfax?"

"No, I pleased to be away from it all. My plea was accepted, I am excused with making a formal entrance. Now. You must go into the drawing room while it is empty, before the ladies leave dinner. Choose your quiet seat in the nook, and you don't have to stay long after the men come in, unless you want to. Just let him see you there, and then slip away – no one will notice."

Jane sighed with mal-content, rising. "Will they stay long?"

"At least two or three weeks. Not more. After Easter Sir Lynn takes his seat and Mr. Rochester will go with him. I am surprised he would even stop off here. "

Jane nodded, excusing herself. She went to her room, making it there before the tears fell. She could have endured the entire visit without having to be in the same room with them all. What was she to wear, to say? No – she would follow Mrs. Fairfax's advice. She would stay not a moment longer than needed, but before then; she had three hours to kill until dinner was over. She had to get ready, but first she must still the flood of tears that now poured from her eyes, and she sat on the bed, her face in a pillow lest someone hear her.

The marks on her face where the tears had stained her cheeks remained, and nothing she could do seemed to lessen their presence. She wore a blue dress, it was demur enough for the evening. Jane dared not look at her reflection in the mirror as she went to fetch Adele. She blocked out the sound in her ears putting on a stoic face that would remain unchanged throughout the evening. She fetched Adele, whose energy was above and beyond her own, and walked with her to the drawing room. She sat in her small alcove, Adele suddenly somber. They remained in soft conversation, until the door slowly opened, and Jane sat straight up, sinking into the darkness as much as possible as she held her breath.

Eight people seemed to flock in, some were very tall – many dressed in white – some dressed in a variety of colours. They seemed to magnify- the way the mist magnifies the moon. Jane tried to recall all the names relayed to her by Mrs. Fairfax; Mrs. Eshton and two daughters, Lady Lynn, Mrs. Colonel Dent, the Dowager lady Ingram and her two daughters Blanche and Mary. Mrs. Eshton was still a very attractive woman, and in her youth must have been stunning. Her eldest, Amy, was little and naïve in her manner of speech, very childlike in looks – wearing a white dress and a blue sash did not help her case. Her second, Louisa, was taller and much more elegant with a very pretty face. No doubt could be cast as to how fair they were – like lilies. Lady Lynn was large and stout, about forty and very haughty looking. She wore a richly coloured satin robe, as if she had gone off to some far-away place and no was showing off her garment. She had lovely dark hair though, that Jane found shone even in the dim light. Mrs. Dent was far less showy, and more lady-like in Jane's eyes. She was slight of figure, pale but gentle faced with fair hair. She wore a lovely black dress and a scarf of foreign design with lace, and pearls around her neck that gave her the most elegant look.

The most distinguished by far were in the Ingram's. The Dowager Lady Ingram was maybe forty five to fifty, with black hair and pale skin – with a good figure and a smart suit of a business woman. Jane guessed most would describe her as a splendid woman of her age, and physically it was true, but her face held a very haughty expression. With Roman features and a double chin, which disappeared into her neck like a pillar, these features were not only dark but filled with pride. She also had a hard eye that Jane did not like, like Mrs. Reed, and Jane found her manner of speech the same.

Blanche and Mary were equal – straight and tall, elegant ladies. Mary was too slim, for her height, but Blanche was molded like a Dian. She held special interest in Blanche, how well did Mrs. Fairfax describe her. As far as personhood, she was exactly as described. A noble bust, the sloping shoulder, graceful neck, dark eyes and ringlet curls of ebony. Her face – like her mothers. Youthful unforrowed likeness, low brow and high features, but the pride remained. She laughed often, and it rang as satirical to Jane, as well as a habitual expression of her arched and haughty lip.

Jane could not decide if she was a genius, for many geniuses are said to be self-conscious. After all, Blanche was a business woman, she was very much into fashion and had a good knowledge of other things. She had entered into a conversation with Mrs. Dent on botany, which Mrs. Dent clearly did not know much about. As the conversation grew boring for Blanche, she headed to the piano to play and sing, and Jane wanted to roll her eyes at the women – yes her talents were great, but it was a show. Fakeness did not sit well with Jane.

Mary had milder features, and seemed better natured, but she lacked life within her person. Her eyes held no luster, her face lacked expression. She sat very still and said little, and Jane wonder3ed fi she had eaten anything at dinner, that she could have no energy for one as young as herself. Both sisters were dressed in fine white gowns, probably from some runway show they had attended.

At this point, Jane could not decide if Blanche was a good choice for Mr. Rochester, because she did not know his taste. Blanche was smart, attractive and talented without doubt, most men would admire her for all superficial reasons. And he did seem to admire her, from what Jane had seen during the day.

It was not that Adele stayed in the dark the whole time, when the ladies had entered Adele had risen to greet them, speaking in French to them with perfect politeness. "Oh my, what a little puppet." Blanche replied, smiling at the girl and Jane decided she did not like this woman at all.

"Oh that's Mr. Rochester's ward." Lady Lynn remarked, "The little French child he spoke of."

Mrs. Dent took Adele's hand and kissed it softly, smiling at her warmly. Jane smiled with appreciation – a true lady.

"What a love of a child." The Eshton girls cried simultaneously. They called Adele to the sofa, and that is where she now sat, while Jane studied each person. The ladies chatted with Adele, a mix of broken French and English, and Adele had captured the attention of Mrs. Dent and Lady Lynn as well. They spoiled her with attention and Jane watched with a relaxed smile on her face. Servants brought coffee into them, and the gentlemen entered. Jane fixed her gaze elsewhere, the smile leaving with the servants. Jane was glad it was dark, a shady alcove of protection.

All the men wore black, nice suits of good quality that appeared to be custom made. Henry and Frederick Lynn were both dashing, tall and elegant with handsome faces. However, Jane found her gut to say they were trouble and to avoid them at all costs. Colonel Dent was much like his wife, a fine soldierly man. Mr. Eshton was a magistrate, a gentleman with white hair, eyebrows and beard. He looked rather comical, but he seemed nice enough. Lord Ingram, like his sisters, was tall and handsome, but shared Mary's apathy and listlessness. He was more limb than life.

And Mr. Rochester? Where was he?

He came in last, and Jane made an effort not to watch for him. Yet she saw him still, even though she tried to focus on her book she had sequestered. She tried to focus on the pages, the words written on them, but she knew every movement he made, the shape of his figure in the doorway. It brought to her mind their last meeting, him holding her hand, asking her not to go. The way his eyes had looked at her, the passion and heartfelt gaze had lingered in her dreams. And now, how far away was that look from his person. How estranged now, Jane not expected him to come speak to her, yet felt disappointed he did not.

Waiting until his company distracted him, Jane looked up from her book, her eyes going to his face directly. She guessed she could observe him so readily now, without fear of interruption. No matter how hard she tried to avert her gaze, her eyes went back to him, and it was a pleasure like poison that drew her to him. His strong features, firm, grim mouth – full of energy and will – not stereotypically beautiful but gorgeous to her eyes. More than beauty was he to Jane, and it was this power and rendered all those feelings she had managed to master rise again. She was powerless to him, under him, around him. Jane had never meant to love him, fighting against those feelings with all her might but alas – there it was. He had made her fall in love with him without even looking at her.

Jane compared him to his guests, they laughed and smiled together. At first an observer may have said he was melancholy – overpowered by his guest in terms of power and handsome qualities. With the smiling and gaiety, his features softened and his manner grew brilliant and gentle, gentle and sweet. She watched him talk with the Eshton girls, their faces colouring under such a man's look in conversation and she felt something odd rising in her. _He is not to them what he is to me, he is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine, I am sure he is, I am akin to him, I understand the language of his countenance and movements, though rank and wealth separate us. Something in my blood, brain and heart naturally assimilates me mentally to him. I know I must conceal my sentiments, he is my employer. We are the same in thought and feeling, and though we are severed, forever sundered – yet while I breathe and think, I must love him._

The ladies were talking, the men arguing something political. Sir George – who had escaped her scrutiny- was a big, fresh looking country gentleman who said little, liking his coffee more than conversation. Everyone seemed engaged with each other until a voice spoke out –

"I thought you didn't like children Edward." Blanche said, her familiar tone irked Jane greatly.

"Nor do I."

"Then what made you take in a little doll like that?" Blanche asked, pointing to Adele. "What made you pick her up?"

"I did not, pick her up, she was left with me."

"You should have sent her to school." Blanche replied, a smile on her face that was fake as any Jane had ever seen.

"Schools are too expensive for what little they teach."

"Oh, then you must have a private tutor or governess." Blanche said thoughtfully. "I did see someone with her earlier, has so gone? No, there she is, behind window curtain. You pay her of course – that must be more expensive, keeping them both.

Jane wondered if then he would glance at her, but he did not take his eyes from Miss Ingram. "I have not considered the subject." He spoke with indifference.

"No, men never economize, nor do they have common sense. I had many private tutors, you should hear the stories Mama has. Mary and I must have had a dozen of them."

"Did you speak, dearest?" After being filled in on the conversation, the woman cried, "Don't talk to me of tutors, the very word makes me nervous. What an incompetent group of people. Thank Heaven I am done with them." The Dowager looked at Jane in such a way that made her lower her voice, but Jane still heard every word. "Just look at her, with all the faults of her class."

"And what are they madam?" Mr. Rochester inquired aloud.

"I shall tell you in private, later." The Dowager replied.

"My curiosity craves food now, madam, not later."

"As does mine Mama." Blanche said quickly.

"Ask Blanche then, she is nearer."

"Do not refer him to me mother, I have but on word on the subject – nuisance. The whole lot. I took great pleasure teasing and pranking the old biddies with Theo." Blanche said, and her brother replied while Jane tuned them out. She had no wish to hear the rambling of spoiled lords and ladies.

Somehow the conversation turned to music and Jane looked up from her book when Blanche and Mr. Rochester were now at the piano. Blanche seemed to be on her high horse, talking of something Jane did not care to hear. "Oh, how I am sick of young men today! Creatures so absorbed in the care of pretty faces, white hands and small feet. As if a man had anything to do with beauty. Woman can be lovely, but even an ugly woman can be lovely, gentlemen must have strength and valor. I know it is old fashioned, but there it is." She paused and looked up at the ceiling, and Jane had to focus on her book, careful not to roll her eyes lest she be seen. "Whenever I marry, I must not marry a rival, but a foil. I want to competition running a household, I want an undivided home. His devotions shall not be shared between me and the shape he sees in the mirror. Now, Edward, sing and I shall play for you. "

"I am all obedience." Was all the response.

_Now is the time to slip away,_ Jane thought as the others were engulfed in conversation. Then the tones of his voice hit the air and she froze in his risen state- his was fine indeed, Mrs. Fairfax had been spot-on. A mellow, powerful bass. It filled her soul, hitting her heart directly. Waiting till the last note, Jane then slipped away, out a side door nearby, trying not to run to her room and shut the door. Thank goodness for the side door, and the nearness of the hall. Jane looked down to see her shoe was coming loose, and she bent to tie it, rising as a figure came out a doorway, the dining room door. Mr. Rochester faced her as she turned around, the stair behind her like a safety net.

"How are you?" He asked.

"I am very well, sir."

"Why did you not come speak to me in the room?"

Jane thought of many ways to retort and bring the point back to him; but decided against using that freedom. "You seemed engaged sir, I did not wish to disturb you."

"What have you been doing in my absence?"

"Teaching, like always."

"And getting paler by the day – I noticed immediately. What is the matter?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Did you take cold the night you half drowned me?"

"No, sir."

"Return to the drawing room then; you are deserting too early."

"I am tired, sir."

He looked at her for a minute, carefully. "And depressed I think. What about Jane? Tell me."

"I am hardly depressed." Jane replied. "It is nothing."

He watched her again and seemed to shift in his facial expression. "I affirm you are – so much so that any more words would bring tears to your eyes. Indeed – there they are now, shining and swimming; a bead has slipped from the lash onto the flag. If I had time, and were not under the eye of the servants, I would know what this means." He touched her face, wiping away the tear from her cheek and Jane looked to the floor. "Very well – tonight I excuse you. But understand, I expect you to join every night my visitors are here. It is my wish, do not neglect it. No go – send Sophie for Adele. Goodnight my-" He stopped abruptly, bit his lip and abruptly left.


	14. Chapter 14

**Warning – this chapter is not from the book. At all. Not even close. Please enjoy and review!**

"Flirting is a woman's trade, one must keep in practice."  
― Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre_

Saturday, Jane decided, was a gloomy depressing day; an awful reminder that there were two days yet that Mr. Rochester would be entertained solely by Blanche. Sitting by the window in the library, Jane sat sketching. Somehow the image was always the same, either of him or of his lady; sometimes they were disguised as angels descending from heaven, or demons rising from the depths of hell. He was the sun, drawing her close enough to burn yet seemingly so far way. Jane found herself feeling restless, like a bird. She focused more on Adele, using any and all excuses to stay away from the group.

Today her pencil drew a scene, of rolling hills with trees cascading along the horizon. It was difficult to emerge herself in such a task, her hands shook as voices reached her ears, the familiar tones of a deep rolling voice made her shiver. The door opened, and Jane forced her hand to move long the page adding details to a tree. She knew she was not hidden, and how she so wanted to be. "Ah, Jane. There you are." He spoke so eagerly, happily. "Is this where you have been hiding all day? I didn't see you at breakfast or lunch."

"I ate with Adele." Jane replied, her hand flipping the page over with a sigh; unsatisfying was the picture.

"You are melancholy Jane." He remarked, pulling up a chair next to her.

"Since when is melancholy defined through the segregation of employee and employer." Jane replied, an edge to her force. "I do not wish to be subjected to such a delineation." Her companion let out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand. She stopped and looked at his, his eyes seem to sparkle with amusement. "You mock me."

"No, Jane." Mr. Rochester spoke, amusement in his voice. "Quite the opposite, I find a startling truth in your bluntness that surprised me. I forget, you see, about the 'delineation'." He watched her, and she returned the gaze with a hardness neither of them liked. "I have neglected you."

Jane set her teeth and turned her head back to her page, her hand not being able to find the inspiration. Attempting to hide her shaking hands, Jane clutched her fingers on her lap, her sketchbook resting on her knees. Looking out the window, her eyes searched his reflection in the glass. He studied her, his eyes not confined to her face.

"Come run with me." She turned her head back to him, her eyes questioning his reasons. "What look is this? You do not trust me?"

"I did not you run, that's all." She spoke, and a smile crept onto his face.

"Ah, well." He leaned in, "I do profess that I do very little, but that does not take away from my muscular form, does it not Jane?"

Jane shrugged, a small smile forming on her lips as she lowered her head. "I was not completely sure it was muscle sir, if so that is very impressive for a man of your age." Hearing a snort as a sort of indignant reply, she chuckled softly. "Running just might do you a great deal of good."

/

The run seemed to go by much faster than those did previous; he kept up easily despite his claim not to engage in rigorous activity. The property seemed to shrink, the distance was not nearly so long or hard, the trees welcomed them and said farewell multiple times. The spoke of many things, and it pleased Jane to no end to feel like they were on equal ground.

"What do you think of London, Jane?" He asked as they started their third lap, a glimmer of sweat starting to appear on his brow.

"It is nice enough, but I never spent much time out and about."

"Ah, the singular creature."

"Do not laugh." She panted, her body slowly running out of steam. "Many people do not like the crowded streets or loud noises a big city has to offer."

He laughed, a smile forming on hips lips briefly as they went along. "You would prefer to spend your whole life locked away like a bird, Jane?"

"Being a bird - implies a - cage in this - context." She replied, "I am not - and shall - never be - caged."

"So you would go and explore the world Jane?" He asked, "You would leave me Jane."

"Adele will - outgrow my - skill - as a teacher." Jane replied, her voice shaky as she breathed between word sets. "You shall have no need of you."

"Nonsense." He replied, his voice low.

"I don't talk nonsense." Jane replied, slowing to a walk as they made it into the treeline. Putting a hand on her neck, she raised her other hand and then frowned. "I forgot a watch, may I use yours?"

He stepped closer to her, removing her hand from her neck only to replace it with his own; his touch burned, her heart seemed to flood in her ears more than the running could inspire. His eyes did not linger on his wrist, but locked on her own. She could not speak, she felt weak and dizzy as he stepped closer. Suddenly their faces were very close, and she felt unsteady, unsettled and yet…

Finding the words to speak, she finally asked. "What is it?"

"Oh.' He said, breaking out of the trance they were in. "I have no idea, I forgot mine as well." He grinned, standing straight now, squeezing her slightly before removing his hand. "Shall we race back to the house?"

Jane was thankful for the opportunity, bolting for the door. He barked something and followed suit, reaching her as she made it to the door way. She felt his hands go round her waist as he pulled her backwards, a sound escaped her lips in frustration and surprise as he slipped in front of her. She followed running to the stairs, reaching him and trying to get past, unaware of the ruckus they were causing, or the grins on their faces.

He succeeded to block the way up, until Jane resorted to kicking the back of his knee. As his lurched forward, she sprang over him. It did not take long to reach the hallway, she reached the top of the stair to grin at her accomplishment as a hand grasped her ankle; pitching her forward. She squirmed as she was held fast, a weight on her as she turned on her back. His elbow rested by her ear, her thoughts were no longer on running, or water. She had teased him before, but she could feel his body now – his face lingered over her own. His eyes were dark, something lingered there she did not fully understand, but she felt it, knew it – and longed for it.

No sound startled them, no movement to disturb them. His lips seemed to hover over her own, his eyes searching; almost for permission or forgiveness. "You transfix me Jane." He whispered, "What spell have you bewitched me with?"

"No spell, sir." She replied, her voice as soft as his own.

"No." He breathed, moving back, standing and offering her a hand. She took it, and he pulled her up and into his arm easily. His arms went around her softly, like he was afraid Jane would break, his head buried in her neck. She felt her knees go weak as his lips brushed a spot she had not known existed, a small sound escaping her lips. Her hands pressed against his chest for support, and she felt his muscle contract to balance her.

The air was suddenly cold; he was not beside her. Jane blinked, rubbing her arms as she turned her head to watch his figure walk away. His gate was brisk and determined, yet his shoulders seemed hunched and heavy. He ran a hand through his hair as he disappeared into his room, leaving Jane in a state of utter wonderment.

/

That night, like clockwork, she sat her little hiding spot as the rest of the group sat chatting. She tuned them out easily tonight, her mind preoccupied with the events of earlier. She was trying to sketch, the images, however, were clearing restricted to the human body, the muscular form. She decided it was Hercules, and not some mortal man she pictures as she drew. The thought, however fictional, was easier than the truth and far less distracting.

"What a wonderful idea!" Blanche exclaimed, "How wonderful of you, Edward."

"What is it Blanche, and is it worth all this noise?" Her mother asked in an unpleasant tone.

"Edward has gotten us tickets to see Phantom of the Opera, Mama."

"How droll. Mr. Rochester I did not know you were an art's enthusiast."

"Normally I am not, but since we rarely have a moment to enjoy these things as a group, I saw it as a privilege."

"How kind you are Edward, all because you heard me say I liked musicals." Blanche crooned, and Jane rolled her eyes in silence. "You did buy more than enough tickets, actually you bought too many; there seem to be two extra."

"Not at all, Miss Eyre and Mrs. Fairfax shall be joining us."

"Really Edward." Blanche said sharply, "Do you always invite the servants?"

"If you dislike the decision, you are free to stay behind." He replied, his tone warm. "I have booked us all rooms at a hotel, and I made dinner reservations."

Jane had been watching him ever since it had been publically announced she was to join them. _To what end?_ Her heart fluttered in panic and dread, her eyes watching his face. His eyes returned the look, locking with hers briefly before turning his back to her. _I do not understand, what am I to do?_ She called out, her soul aching for an answer.

_Jane._ The place seemed to creak, a whisper reaching her ear. She watched as Blanche touched his back, her hand sliding down his spine in an intimate gesture. She clenched her teeth, rising from her spot as the pain in her heart welled up higher than she could control. Slipping out of the room, she shut the door softly, removing her heels and running to safety.


	15. Chapter 15

**Man I am so sorry for not updating. I have not abandoned you (Thank you so much for reviewing this!) I have been swamped with a change in in work, my recent obsession with a video game to relieve my stress and adjusting to my new job as a Student leader! I hope you all continue to enjoy this as I write – more faithful updates soon, I promise. **

The bird song filtered through the glass as the light broke that morning; but for Jane it was as if the glass was all but gone. Sleep had been joyful in anticipation for the trip; yet it was an eternity. The stars had been vibrant, beacons of freedom and love – a strange thing for stars to be. At first she had cried in desperation but as the day approached for the trip to the city – she felt more and more alive. True, her employer had been avoiding her and yet she could feel the pull of her soul to his. He joined her on runs now and again, where he made little conversation except to speak of how well Adele was progressing.

_Jane. Where are you Jane?_

She turned her head on her pillow, her dreams spinning strange images of faces and sounds – as if he was calling her, touching her cheek and smiling; like a faraway memory.

_Wake up Jane, the day awaits us._

She shifted again as the bird song filled her ears and she opened her eyes slowly, feeling the warmth on her face and a smile graced her features. She sat up and looked at the small suitcase, she had been packed early last night; washed and pressed all her best dresses so that she might not look so out of place.

A knock came at the door, and Jane got up to open it; her t-shirt and shorts did not bother her. After unlocking it, a habit she did not like so much but felt uncomfortable sleeping without the door secured, she pulled it open slightly and blinked at the tall form outside her doorway.

"Are you not up Miss Eyre?" Rochester barked, pushing open the door and walking in with no reservation. "I see you are packed, but what of you – you can not expect to ride in a private car in those clothes can you?"

"No sir." She replied, looking down at her shirt as she played with the hem. His hair seemed wild and it matched the look in his eyes, and the well made Italian shirt that was tucked into his fancy jeans.

"Are you not excited for this trip, Jane – after I went to so much trouble to arrange the tickets." He asked, tilting his head on the side and she weight the severity of his gaze through every bone in her body.

"Not at all sir, I simply overslept." She replied, looking up from the floor and making eye contact with him. The gaze held her fast, pulling on her core and all her strength seemed to bend in his general direction.

"Jane Eyre oversleeping?" He questioned as he walked over to his bag, picking it up and then making a face as he looked at the suitcase, then again at her with a concerned gaze lingering on his face. "Did you pack nothing Jane?"

"No sir, I packed my best clothes." She replied, feeling the sting of the insult – however dull. She touched her hair then, moving over to the closet where she reached for her outfit for the day. She knew her hair was wild looking – movement in the night always gave her lovely bed-head.

"Is this all you have Jane?" His voice was softer, almost concerned as he stepped closer to the closet, shaking his head as he reached over her and moved the meager clothes around. "I assumed that black dress was simply your favorite, but now I see you wore it out of necessity. Jane, why did you not say that you lacked formal clothes."

"Not all of us enjoy steady wealth, sir, and we make do." She replied, taking her out her chosen clothes with a sniff of wounded pride.

"Come Jane, you shall have new things while you are in London. You and Adele can go shopping." He said with a crooked smile, and she frowned at him.

"You forget, _sir, _ that I have had no wages. You can not expect to buy clothes with nothing can you?" She retorted, and he blinked in surprise before recognition set in.

"Good God I forgot your salary. You will forgive me Miss Eyre, I do not deserve it and yet I demand it." He ran his free hand through his hair, looking downcast for a moment before his hand went to his pocket, pulling out is wallet with no trouble at all and handed it to Jane – causing her to place her clothes on the bed before being able to do so. "There is a credit card in the right hand side, take it Jane, it has a limit of a million pounds – take it and buy yourself a new wardrobe. I will not have you be outdone whilst you are in my company."

"I can not sir." She replied, shaking her head as she looked at the wallet in her hand. "That is far too great an amount to offer me when you owe me so little in comparison."

"This is not a matter of debate, _Jane_." He spoke with a growl to his tone, and she dared to let her eyes linger on his face longer than what was acceptable. "Take it, and call us even. You are not to buy the cheap clothes you are used to wearing, but go to the good stores and buy anything that fits you well. It might cost more but it will be well worth the cost."

"This is absurd." She muttered, and held out the wallet back to him. "I can not accept this, I would much rather go as I am."

He raised his eyebrow at her insistence, chuckled as he took the wallet it from her, letting his hand rest on her own as his fingers curled around the smooth form of the leather. "Most people would not think twice at spending money that did not belong to them, I can think of many such people. But you – you strange creature – you reject it like I have insulted you."

"It is simply too much money sir, and I do not like being in your debt –

"Bless my soul Jane, you do not strike me as a fool and yet you constantly surprise me." He sighed, and she felt a strong wave of disappointment flowing from him and she felt guilty for making him displeased. "Then you leave me no choice, Miss Eyre, I will simply have to accompany you on this shopping trip."

With that statement he turned and walked to the door, and she gaped at him as he moved. "But what about Miss –

He paused in the door way and looking slightly over his shoulder at her; his eyes scanning her body before he spoke again. "Perhaps our first priority is to find you a bra Miss Eyre, a 34 C if I am not mistaken." Jane flushed as she realised where his eyes were looking, and she grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at him, landing in the hallway as he easily avoided it. "Do get dressed Miss Eyre." He called out, his voice echoing in the hall as he descended the stairs.

She felt the heat in her cheeks - and the rest of her body for that matter – and she dressed quickly before coming down the stairs, meeting Adele and going to the car with a goofy grin fighting its way to her lips.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you for the reviews! It has been really hard to write lately due to working over 40 hours pretty much only on a computer – it is hard on the eyes. But perhaps if I sleep a lot this weekend and avoid the computer more regular updates will come. **

The hotel was bigger than she expected – although what she had expected was a foggy blur in her mind – but this….this was tower beyond anything. As the car pulled up, Jane gently nudged Mrs. Fairfax awake. "Ah, here we are." The woman mused, "How kind of Mr. Rochester, to bring us here."

"Which hotel is this?" Jane asked, her eyes focused upwards as it seemed to go on for an infinity – the place was a different type of majestic compared to Thornfield; stretching high above the street.

"This is the Park Tower of Knightsbridge." Mrs. Fairfax replied, "It is one of the most expensive hotels in London." Jane turned her eyes to her companion and felt the weight of her own insignificance. "Now don't fret Jane, I am sure we will be placed in one of the smaller rooms. Besides, it is only for a few days."

"Is it right for a ser-

"You are more than a servant Jane." Mrs. Fairfax scolded, "Mr. Rochester always takes great pleasure in giving me little holidays, why should you be any different?"

"He offered to buy me a new wardrobe." Jane said softly, and the woman across from her watched her young friend carefully. "I can help but feel like I will be very out of place in such a place."

"Hush Jane, you always look very well. No one will be looking at us anyway." The woman mused and Jane smiled and nodded as the car pulled to a complete stop in front of the doors. Men and women going in and out of the hotel looked like they could afford anything in the world – including the hotel. Adele was practically bursting as she waited for the other passengers to get out of the car – seeing her guardian not far away.

"I do hope Adele will behave herself." Mrs. Fairfax whispered, mainly to herself, "She can't be behaving like she does at Thornfield in a place like this."

"I will see to it." Jane said in reply as they walked forward, their bags being taken from them. As Adele pulled on her teacher's hand with great force, Jane remained where she was. The lobby looked fantastically grand, and the people inside were some of the most beautiful people she had ever seen. Blanche and her family were at the front desk, talking amongst themselves while Blanche had her arm linked with Mr. Rochester's.

Tearing her eyes away, she finally walked forward, forcing herself to take in the sights of the beautiful place; but her ears could not be tuned to any other but the sound of his voice. "I do not see the problem." He was saying, "It is hardly sharing a room, Blanche – if anything it will nothing ore than sharing a small apartment."

"I simply don't see why you would share a suite with a servant, couldn't you put her in with the child?" Blanche stated, a tone of annoyance in her voice. "How am I supposed to come see you with another woman in the place?"

"You knock, I would imagine." Mr. Rochester replied coolly, and Jane smiled despite the comment not being particularly funny. "Ah Mrs. Fairfax, Jane – come, I have the keys to your rooms." Jane turned, keeping a close hold on Adele as Sophie walked beside her – the girl looked just as nervous as Jane felt; so there was some comfort in that. "Mrs. Fairfax, here is the key to your room. Sophie, are and Adele are sharing a room close to Mrs. Fairfax."

"Is it very high?" Adele asked, and the man seemed to sigh with a growl.

"Yes, you can sing and dance and not a soul will her you." He grumbled and the girl smiled and immediately hugged his knee, thanking him in French as Sophie tried to pry the child off him.

"Which room am I in, sir?" Jane asked, meeting his eyes calmly and carefully – her own emotions twisting as Blanche rolled her eyes – still attached to the man's side like an child to her security blanket.

"Here Jane." He said, handing her a key, and Jane dipped her head in acknowledgement before turning to follow Sophie and Adele. She was aware of his eyes boring in her, but she kept her back turned as she came to the elevator.

"Which suite are you in Jane?" Mrs. Fairfax inquired and Jane shook her head as she turned the key over.

"I am not sure." Jane questioned, "I believe it to be large, I have never heard of a room called Hyde Park before."

The older woman narrowed her eyes for a brief minute and then nodded to herself. "I do think you are right Jane, it is a Penthouse."

Jane watched curiously, her friend seemed to be not telling her everything – or at least something was bothering her. The ding of the elevator interrupted her thoughts, and she found the silence to be deafening; even the doors closing did not separate her from the image of Blanche and Mr. Rochester. As the doors closed, Jane felt a small rush of relief – and she closed her eyes briefly when a -

"Hold the door!"

Brought her back to reality, and a hand went to the crack of the door to stop it. The man in question was tall – with long curly hair and dashing green eyes – wearing a smart looking suit, and giving Jane a rather gorgeous smile. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, there is plenty of room." Jane replied, asking Adele to move over as the man entered. He seemed particularly chatty, talking to them all while waiting for the doors to close again. Jane couldn't help but reply, he seemed the type that could not be refused in conversation. He was pleasant and easy to converse with.

"How old is your daughter?" He asked, and Jane felt the flush on her face shaking her head.

"Adele is my student." Jane replied and the man nodded.

"It must be nice, having such a pretty teacher." He replied and Jane's lips twitched into an awkward smile. "I would not be able to look away." Mrs. Fairfax cleared her throat and the man chuckled, looking slightly sheepish. Jane, on the other hand felt annoyed and strangely flattered.

"May I take you out for dinner while you are here? I could show you the town." He offered, and Jane gently shook her head.

"I-

"Excuse me." Mr. Rochester growled, stepping into the elevator and moving in beside Jane. He said nothing, but the dark haze in his eyes made Jane concerned. Once the elevator started to move – the doors finally able to close without interruption – he spoke. "Are we still meeting this evening, Miss Eyre?"

Jane titled her head slightly at him, and he did not meet hers for a moment; when he did - she felt a shiver flow through her. "I see no reason why not." She replied, and he turned his gaze back on the elevator doors. The man beside him said very little, and the rest of the ride was silent. When they came the man's floor, he stepped around and out, turning and offering Jane a smile.

"I hope to see you again." He offered, and Jane uttered a polite reply before the doors closed – and the rest of the climb felt long. Adele was humming – which was a pleasant enough thing to distract her from the tension in the small space. Eventually the door opened again and Jane stepped out- followed by her employer and she turned around in surprise.

"You did not say we are on the same floor sir." Mr. Rochester said nothing, and Jane walked beside him in silence. "Are our rooms near one another?" She asked, and he turned his head to look at her with a small smirk forming on his lips. "You are playing with me."

"Me, Jane?" He replied, "I have never done such a thing." She fought the urge to argue as they continued. "I am surprised at you Jane."

"Why? What have I done?"

"You have not thanked me for arranging this vacation, nor for the luxury of your accommodation." He stated flatly, and Jane furrowed her brow.

"You arranged this for Blanche, not I, you are courting her aren't you?" Jane replied and He stopped walking; which she did not notice. She turned her head and stopped, watching his face – which was unreadable to her.

"Ah, you have been talking to Mrs. Fairfax." He mused, and she smiled softly. "But…" He said softly, stepping forward, "You have not been unhappy with us, have you Jane?"

"No sir."

"Does it bother you to be here, Jane, all expenses paid trip to the city?"

"I would just as well be in a cottage by the sea than an expensive hotel, the location is irrelevant. It is the people who matter." She replied in earnest, and he smiled.

"Do I matter to you Jane?" Mr. Rochester asked, tilting his head slightly as a grin spread slowly on his face in response to the flush on her face.

"No more than any other employer matters to their employee." She replied quickly, turning her head away as she played with the key, looking around for the room – listening to his quiet chuckles as he strode up along side her.

"Come Jane, admit it. You would be lost without me here to guide you."

"I do not believe you have guided me toward anything, perhaps the opposite is true."

"Miss Eyre, leading her decrepit employer towards – what, Jane, enlighten me?"

"Proper fitness, to name one." Jane replied and he snorted,.

"Are you not content with my body Jane? Here I thought you rather enjoyed it."

"What?" She gasped, looking at him sharply.

"Well, I have noticed the frequent glances Jane, I could only assume it was to admire my glorious form."

"For your age you are in reasonable shape, I admit – but you could stand to invest in a more rigid routine – targeting your abdominals first, then your legs….perhaps…. then - maybe Blanche will find you more attractive than your money."

"Ho!" He barked, rounding the corner and taking out his key card. "I do believe you are angry Jane."

"Not at all, I am simply stating the facts- _sir_." She replied, looking around as they seemed to come to the only door – looking around confused.

"Are you looking for your room Jane?" Mr. Rochester inquired, a superior look on his face and Jane nodded. "You are in luck, Miss Eyre, for I know almost every inch of this hotel. Which room are you in?"

"Hyde Park?"

"Well you are in luck Jane." He smiled and Jane watched his face with distrust. "I know exactly where this it."

"Really?" She asked, "This is not your way of taking revenge?"

"Am I so shallow that I would take offence at you not finding my body attractive? Am I a child?" He asked and she nodded, which made him snort indignantly. "Worry not, sweet Janey; I seek no revenge on you. This is, however, your room."

Looking at his key card, Jane narrowed her eyes at him. "Are we sharing a room sir?" Blanche's voice rang in her ears as he replied.

"This is a penthouse suite Jane, it is more like an apartment. Come, let me show you." He opened the door and Jane blinked. It was huge, but the first thing she saw as she walked in was the view. It seemed to overlook the entire city, and the living room she was standing in was indeed like an apartment. There was a table with six chairs around it, a business nook, a small comfy area with a couch and 2 chairs facing a television. "You see this door here Jane?" She turned her head, her eyes going to the door he gestured at. "This will be my room; and that door over there, leads to yours." He must have seen her expression because he softened his expression as he took a step towards her. "You don't have to stay Jane, I can make other arrangements."

"No. No….I simply do not know what to say." Jane admitted. "First you offer me expensive new clothes, and now I get to stay here. I…don't understand."

"Oh, Jane." He whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder gently. "Do I need a reason to treat you well."

She thought about it for a moment, and shook her head. "No, I suppose not."

"So you will stay then?" He asked, a slight tremor on insecurity in his voice and she nodded, offering a small smile and he nodded. "Excellent, you will barely notice I am here."


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks again for the reviews! While agree that "we" as the readers would totally bail on that situation Jane is naïve, as much as she is wise and all that – she is still a girl who is incredibly sheltered and is completely infatuated with this man; she would never think anything of sharing a penthouse – this room is about 16000 sq ft, which is GIANT. That is pretty much the size of my house. Also I have no idea how these expensive hotels work….**

**But thanks for reading! I appreciate it. Here is the next chapter and enjoy!**

_"__I am not an angel,' I asserted; 'and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself. Mr. Rochester, you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me - for you will not get it, any more than I shall get it of you: which I do not at all anticipate."  
― __Charlotte Brontë__, __Jane Eyre_

"Ah Jane." Mrs. Fairfax said, seeing the girl enter the lobby. "Did you find your room alright?" Jane nodded, and Mrs. Fairfax sighed – in relief Jane supposed. "I was worried you would get lost, I certainly did."

"Mr. Rochester and I are in the same place – suite….room." Jane said, not seeing the look that flashed on the woman's face. "It is huge…. much larger than my room at Thornfield." Her friend was silent then, and Jane thought it a little strange, but nothing out of the ordinary. Mrs. Fairfax was, after all, a thinker – and Jane assumed if something was to be said about it the woman would do so later.

"Is it." Mrs. Fairfax mused softly, turning her head as she saw the crowd coming toward them. Whatever thoughts were forming in the older woman's head, Jane didn't know. "We are all going out shopping Jane, you should come along – goodness knows I can't handle Adele on my own; and I wouldn't want to Blanche to be put out." Mr. Rochester appeared at the back of the group, making his way quickly to Blanche's side, his hand touching the small of her back gently. "They do make a handsome couple, do they not Jane?" The woman mused, and Jane said nothing. "They have been an item for the last few years now, on and off again. I think that it is Edward who is hesitant to settle down, but Blanche will make short work of that. A strong business woman with superior wit and skill."

"But are they really _that_ well matched?" Jane asked aloud, and regretted saying the words as it caused Mrs. Fairfax to look at her strangely. "I only mean, given my limited time around Miss Ingram, I don't see what qualities she possesses that another does not have. And she certainly does not take to Adele at all."

"Well not everyone has to like children, Jane." Mrs. Fairfax stated, "But that really should not be counted against her, surely."

"But she a part of the household. You can not just severe a limb if you do not like it." Jane replied softly, and her friend chuckled.

"I used to think that was too, when I was your age. How could anyone not like children?" Mrs. Fairfax chuckled, "You have seen so little of the world, Jane, and very little of men – it is not uncommon now-adays for bright young men and women not to want children. But it is uncommon for employers to room with their employees, not matter how spacious the place."

Jane turned her head slightly to look at the woman and made a slight face. "But we can share a house together?"

Mrs. Fairfax laughed, touching Jane's arm lightly. "You are too naïve Jane." Giving the girl's arm a little squeeze, the woman tried to explain. "Thornfield is a manner, Jane. There is no question of anything untoward going on in a place full of servants. A hotel room is much more intimate Jane."

"He doesn't see me like that." Jane protested, "He treats me as an equal, as his friend."

"It is not right, Jane, for a man his age to have such a young girl sharing a hotel room." Mrs. Fairfax reiterated but Jane shook her head.

"If Mr. Rochester had a reputation of being a scoundrel, then I might see reason to this. But there is nothing!"

_"__Now that you know, Jane, may I tell you of my lovely one?"_

Jane repressed her urge to sigh, and smiled instead as the lovely Blanche got closer. Mrs. Fairfax was immediately brought into the conversation –it struck Jane that _apparently_ the same rules did not apply to Mrs. Fairfax as they did to Jane.

"Mademoiselle!" Adele said, appearing as if out of nowhere, but Jane suspected the girl had been within the crowd of people. "Mr. Rochester is buying me a new dress, any one I want. Isn't it exciting?"

Jane smiled and nodded, taking the little girl's hand as she slowly followed the crowd out of the hotel. Again Adele and Jane where in the rear car, by themselves this time – and Jane suspected Sophie was getting a small break. Jane only wished that the maid could enjoy it while it lasted – as a nagging feeling within Jane's soul rose up within her. As they rode, Adele spoke about the type of dress she wanted; blue or maybe pink –and it had to have shoes to match, perhaps a tiara or a ring like her mother used to have.

When they reached the store, Jane did not see any evidence of a children's section; but it seemed that this particular store owner, or manager – Jane wasn't sure – expected a child to be entering this boutique and had prepared several dresses for Adele to try on. Blanche had obviously never been here before, or perhaps she had – Jane did not know, nor care. Everything was different yet comfortable, yet some looks were something Jane had only imagined wearing. From very fancy dresses, or somewhat outrageous pantsuits – to more normal things such as long jackets and striped shirts and sweaters.

As she was looking around, Jane felt almost compelled to try on a few things after 10 minutes of Adele picking up anything Jane touched or looked at and put it in her own change-room. There was no question of running into any one else of the group, since they were on the other end of the shop and totally engrossed with one another. Trying on clothes would be a necessary distraction from the overtly obvious couple like behaviour displayed by her boss.

Adele had, as far as Jane could tell, fantastic taste. As Adele tried on a dress, Jane was required to try one of Adele's picks – a short, tight white lacy number with no back, a floral print dress that Jane thought was outrageous for the price, an a-line knee length red dress that clung to her curves, a pencil skirt with a beige top that fit her perfectly and a random assortment of jeans and tops that Jane felt tired just looking at. _Shopping,_ Jane decided, _is not so bad after all. _Adele was full of laughs and giggles as they both came out of the change room to show one another their clothes, even the attendant helping them was all smiles as the child twirled around with her teacher. But with all children, fun things must come to an end.

"Sir." Jane said softly as she came up behind him, and he barely turned his head as she spoke, he was watching Blanche with a dead look – and Jane did not know if it was intensity or boredom. "Adele is tired, I am going to take to her back to her room. Would you like her to join you for dinner, or may we eat before hand?"

He turned his head then, his eyes suddenly serious. "We, Miss Eyre?" Jane nodded and Mr. Rochester turned his head back to watch Blanche, nodding at the outfit she was wearing and smiling. "I don't recall giving you leave not to join us Jane."

"I need to feed Adele soon, sir – she is tired and hungry. Can not I skip the formalities for tonight?" Jane asked, glancing over at Adele. "It is truly necessary to have me present at your fancy dinner. Mrs. Fairfax is not required to attend, last time I checked."

She heard a low growl in his throat and he eyed her with an impressed scowl. "Do you never seek to wound me Jane."

"It is hardly wounding – since when does eating with Adele effect you at all. You frequently state how much you dislike children, so it did not occur to me that this woul-

"Oh do go on Miss Eyre." Rochester growled, not looking at her. "Take Adele back to the hotel after you get her a cupcake or something, but for heaven's sake leave us be. But you will join us for dinner, do you understand Miss Eyre?"

"Very well, sir." Jane said firmly, turning and walking back to Adele as the attendant approached here.

"If you would like, I can have the bags sent directly to the hotel." The woman explained and Jane smiled back politely.

"That would be Mr. Rochester's decision, not my own."

"Very well miss, I hope you have a pleasant day." The woman replied, watching as Adele made her way slowly to Jane, a yawn on her face as the child took Jane's hand.

"Adele, what have you to say?" Jane asked, watching at the girl stared at her with blank eyes. "Adele?"

"Thank you, Mademoiselle." Adele offered after a moment's pause, and the attendant replied in kind, and Jane smiled.

"Thank you for everything. Come Adele." Jane said, turning to face the exit, and the girl walked slowly with her teacher but with a content yet sleepy smile. "Are you hungry Adele?"

"Yes mademoiselle." Adele replied as she rubbed her eyes.

"Well what shall we eat?" Jane asked, and Adele shrugged. "I am sure there is something that might interest you. Let me see, how do you feel about strawberry pie?"

"No." Adele sighed and Jane looked down at the girl with a crooked smile, bending down so that they were at the same level.

"Que dis-tu de ça. Nous retournons à l'hôtel, et vous pouvez mettre sur un de ces jolies nouvelles robes et vous chanter cette nouvelle chanson Sophie vous a enseigné." The child's eyes lit up, an infectious smile forming on her face.

"Can we really, Miss?"

"You have to eat something first."

"I will, I will eat anything."

"Do you like steak and potatoes?" Jane asked and the girl nodded, a triumph.

"Wait." Rochester barked, walking toward them with a stern gaze. He seemed to have a different aura, more aloof – brooding, as if something heavy weighed on his mind. But this did not change the way he affected her. "Use this." He extended his hand, and Jane saw a card resting in his fingers. "Take it Miss Eyre, unless you prefer starving."

Jane extended her fingers and took it, their skin touching lightly only for a moment – sending a shiver up her spin while the rest of her burned at the contact. "Thank you, Mr. Rochester."

"Honestly Edward, do you need to do everything?" Blanche barked loudly as she walked over. "You pay her to educate the child, surely she can pay for a meal."

"I am more than happy to have my servants pay their way, my dear Blanche – but I can see plainly that Jane has not her purse. Do I have you permission to feed the child?"

"By all means." Blanche replied, and Jane watched the exchange while swallowing the rising bile in her throat. "I don't know why you don't just send her away to school – the you wouldn't have to waste all this money on her. Boarding schools are quite good, and you have the added luxury of never seeing her for the majority of the year. Think of what you would save on clothes."

He laughed.

Jane blinked as the sound made its way to her ears. "Are they now? I shall have to bear that in mind." Filled with disgust, Jane turned and started walking to the door. Jane felt like she was seeing red as they reached the door, the frosted glass made it easy to see her escape, the air hitting her features like a welcome reprieve – the room had suddenly become too small, stuffy and confined to remain there. Once they were outside, Jane glanced at the glass – Blanche was walking back to her group while Mr. Rochester was talking with the attendant.

"Mademoiselle, what is wrong?" Adele asked, and Jane closed her eyes for a minute before she kept walking, turning her head to the child and offering a smile.

"Nothing, Adele. Now, where should we go?"

"Is that Jane Eyre?" A voice rose, and Jane felt the world go still as two faces came into view – she would know them anywhere, and she felt her heart start to quicken while she forced herself to remain calm. "I do believe that is Jane Eyre, how ugly you have grown up to be."

"Is this your child? The other voice asked, the poison in it easily spotted. "Mother always said you would come to nothing."

"Laughter, swarming black figures around her, the cold – the flash of red.

"We will have to tell mother we ran into you."

"Will you two hurry up, I am growing old waiting for you – rat?"

Jane swallowed, holding Adele firmly in her hand as the voices became a fog – more memory and fear; she could not separate them- ignoring them was better."

"Is there a problem here?" A voice rang clear, and Jane tugged lightly on Adele's hand as someone approached them.

"What business of it of yours?"

"I dislike your tone." The voice said, and Jane turned her head up to look at the face of the man who stood there, his golden hair moving slightly in the breeze. "And I suggest you move along."

The three snickered something Jane could not hear before walking past them, and Jane could feel his eyes watching her. "It was purely by chance that I came along this way, are you alright? You look like you have seen a ghost."

"I am fine, thank you Mr-

"Elliot. Thomas Elliot. Do you…remember me?" He asked and Jane stared at him for a moment like he was the apparition. "From the hotel?"

She blinked, looking at him as her mind cleared. He was wearing a track suit, his hair was not moving much in the breeze at is was wet from perspiration; the shoes on his feet indicated he had been running. "Yes, yes, I am sorry – we…were just on our way to get something to eat."

"Did you know them?" Thomas asked, watching her curiously.

"Along time ago." Jane whispered, closing her eyes for a minute as Adele watched her with a pained expression.

"Mademoiselle?" The girl asked, and Jane felt the tug on her hand and felt a wave of guilt – she had been practically crushing the small child's fingers.

"Adele, oh I am sorry." Jane said, releasing the hand and offering a gentle expression.

"Who were those people?" The girl inquired and Jane sighed as she tucked a strand of wild curl behind Adele's ear.

"My cousins." Jane replied and Adele made a face.

"They are not very nice."

"I agree." Thomas said and Jane thanked him for intervening. "It was luck, plain and simple. And I am sure anyone would have done the same. But I do think that requires some reward. How does…ice cream sounds?"

"Can we?" Adele asked and Jane chuckled uncomfortably, placing the card Mr. Rochester had given her in her pocket.

"Only if we eat a real meal first." Jane replied and Thomas nodded with a smile.

"There is a great fish and chips place a block over. Come, I will walk you there. I won't stay, I wouldn't want to embarrass you in this state, but how about I treat you and Adele to dinner, then we can go for ice cream later."

"I thought reward meant we should do something nice for you, not the other way around." Jane stated and Thomas shrugged.

"You are." He replied easily, beginning to walk beside the two. "You are joining me for ice cream, that is enough." He smiled and Jane felt a wave of relaxation as they headed for the restaurant; she did not see the dark eyes watching from behind, nor did she remember that she was supposed to take the car to the restaurant.


	18. Chapter 18

**HI all! Thanks for the reviews! I am sorry for the lack of regular updates but I am very busy with my work – I am the GOTV coordinator for my campus which = no life. It is fun though, no complaints. I got around to writing this thanks to all of you asking me to, so I hope you enjoy. ****J**

I had not intended to love him: the reader knows I had wrought hard to extirpate from my soul the germs of love there detected; and now, at the first renewed view of him, they spontaneously revived, green and strong! He made me love him without looking at me." Chapter 17, pg. 153

"And then – purely by chance – the door swung open and the three of us walked on in on him – naked: tied to the bed with his own clothes, snow everywhere!" Thomas was saying; trying to force back the laughter that bubbled to his lips as Jane waited eagerly on the punchline. Adele was trying to follow along, but they were speaking faster than she was able to keep up with – that and she was greatly entertained by her desert.

"Did he say anything?" Jane asked, taking a sip of her drink as Thomas nodded, finishing a bite of his brownie.

"Well, we all asked him what had happened – of course. But his teeth were chattering so loudly that all we could make out was "Ss-ss-sss-ss-ss h-uu-tt –ttt-hh-ee ww-ii-nn—dd-ooo-ww." Well, safe to say that my years of living in residence was a less awkward after that experience. It became rather enjoyable, really."

"You were friends after that?" Jane asked, wiping away a tear from her eye.

"After all that? How could I not. The four of us are still pretty close, Harold is working in America still, while Jason is somewhere travelling the world. He became something of a nomad after school ended, and Simon is working in London; but in the corporate sector." Thomas replied, and Jane shook her head.

"You are very lucky to so easily make friends." Jane replied and Thomas shrugged.

"Don't say it like you aren't." He said and Jane raised an eyebrow at him as she sipped her drink. "Oh you don't believe me. Well, Jane – here we are – total strangers and yet we are sitting, having a rather delightful conversation – at my expense, I might add – which is the first step to making friends – is it not?"

Jane opened her mouth to speak, then closed it; a blush rising on her cheeks. "I believe you are right."

"Ooh, Jane – just when I thought we were making progress." Thomas chuckled, putting a hand to his heart as he feigned pain. "Come now, you must have some tales of your own that would level the playing field. We have been here for hours and all I have talked about is myself."

"I don't have a lot of humor in me, I'm afraid. I have lived a rather dull life." Jane replied, and Thomas groaned. "Although –

"Tell me, no second thoughts about it Jane!" Thomas mused, reaching forward and taking her hand.

"Well, it was during art class. My teacher had decided that my skill was high enough that I should use a live model. My teacher's husband just happened to be an art professor, so he arranged to give one of his students extra credit if they wanted to model for a small group at my school. My teacher gathered the best students join in and on Wednesday nights – Jordan would come and sit for us."

As Jane told this story, Adele watched her teacher with amusement as she spoke – a story in which paled in comparison to the antics Thomas had lived in his short 27 years. Adele, as young as she was, was able to see the difference in Jane's expression, the animation in her features as she told a story that – if anyone was listening, would know, - she had not told to many, if any, before.

The real Jane, the joy filled, curious child – talked with her hands; her facial expressions animated – like that of when she talked with Rochester, but different. This energy was different, no more sexual than the dinner they had all shared. Friendship, as it turns out, suited Jane. She was alive with kindness, with those who showed a willingness to listen and hear her out entirely.

"The poor boy, sitting there on this chair like a French doll as the chorus of girls seemed to form around him. I thought he was going to turn blue from the cold in the room, and purple from embarrassment. And the girls had no qualms about getting out there phones – if it wasn't for my teacher hustling him out of the room, I swear there would have been some very concerning photos on the internet."

"Good God. " Thomas wheezed through his laughter. "You mean to say he sat there for a whole hour not realising he had the wrong room?"

"Mhm." Jane chuckled, "You would think that he could tell the difference between a painting set and sketching sets. Actually, I heard he ended up marrying one of the girls."

"Somehow I am not surprised." Thomas chuckled, nodding to Adele before speaking again. "Your ward is getting restless, mademoiselle."

"Well, it is late now." Jane said, looking to the window of the shop. "And I did promise her some alone time this evening. We should probably get back."

"Jane , pouvons-nous pas aller faire quelque chose d'amusant ? Je ne veux pas retourner à cet hôtel." Adele said softly, and Jane frowned softly and shook her head. "I'm sorry Adele, but I don't think we have time tonight." Jane replied, and the little girl sighed. "But we can still do what I planned." The child nodded, a brightness coming to her face once again – but she was tired, that was clear. "Then it is time to go. I will walk back with you. I can hardly abandon you now." Thomas said as he stood, watching as Jane and Adele did the same. "You know Adele, my sister and I used to play a game as we walked home." "Really?" Adele asked as he held the door open for the girls, the little girl paying close attention. "What is it?" "Oh no, you wouldn't like it." Thomas said, winking at Jane as they started to walk along. "What is it? What is it?" Adele asked, taking the man's hand and shaking it lightly. Thomas laughed and Jane smiled; Thomas had said he was the oldest of five children. "Well, have you ever played I spy?" Thomas asked, and Adele thought for a moment; trying to recall a time where she had played the game – and after a time nodded. "Ah, then you are halfway there – As they walked, Jane found the worry that had evaded her for an hour returning slowly. Adele was suddenly on Thomas' shoulders, picking out things for the game being played; but the poison was already in her veins, the nightmare was awake once again. Even after all this time it could fuel the coals of anxiety and despair. The whole walk back, Jane was resigned to her shell; protecting the inner bleed that was causing her mind to spin. "Jane?" A voice asked, and Jane turned her head to the side as a soft touch was felt on her shoulder. Thomas nodded to the street where they needed to cross, Adele was chattering atop his shoulders. "Are you alright?" Jane nodded, tucking a stray strand behind her ear as she watched the traffic light. "Yes, sorry. I was just daydreaming." "Dangerous business." Thomas said, wiggling his eyebrows to bring a small smile to her face. "I know." Jane replied, and Thomas chuckled. It surprised her even more when he started to sing, but it made Adele pay more attention too. "LeFou, I'm afraid I've been thinking." Thomas started, to which Jane replied easily – and Adele was able to join in very shorty when she realised what he was singing. "A dangerous pastime." "I know." Thomas said, making a face. "But that wacky old coot is Belle's father, and his sanity's only so-so." He helped Adele get down at her rest as she sang along with him in French. "Now the wheels in my head have been turning, since I looked at the loony old man. See, I've promised myself that I'd be married to Belle. And right now I'm evolving a plan." Thomas did facial expression and gestures with his hands as he sang, drawing looks from people around them; Jane doubted the people in this neighbourhood frequently saw a man in running gear burst into song.

As they started to cross the street, they both took Adele's hand, singing out the rest of the lyrics while Jane was left to ponder why a lawyer could sing so well. "If I . . . "

"Yes." Jane replied with Adele, watching as Thomas made the gestures to go along with his character.

"And then we."

"No! Would she?"

"Guess?"

"Now I get it!"

"Let's go!" The all said, continuing into the rest of the song; blissfully unaware of people watching them. "No one plots like Gaston!"

"Takes cheap shots like Gaston!" Thomas crooned.

"Plans to persecute harmless crackpots like Gaston." Jane replied as best she could as they continued on. "So his marriage we soon'll be celebrating. My what a guy! Gaston!" As they finished, they all laughed; Adele was chipper once more and Thomas seemed pleased with himself.

"Excuse me." A woman said, and Jane turned her head to this stranger. "I don't mean to intrude, but you have such a beautiful family – would you mind if I took a picture?"

"Not at all." Thomas said, winking at Jane as he pulled her close, lifting Adele up so she was in the middle; which she was all too happy to preen for the camera. Jane smiled for the camera as Thomas cracked a joke about smiling; and they did. After the photo was taken, the woman showed it to them, and Jane had to admit it was a good photo. "Here is my card." Thomas said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket of his running pants. "Would you email that to me, I would love to have a copy."

"Of course. Thanks again!" The woman said as she turned back to her husband, walking towards their destination.

As Adele chattered on, Jane took the advantage to speak her mind. "Why did you not correct her?"

"And ruin her joy at seeing such a heartwarming scene?" Thomas teased, and Jane made a face. "Let her believe that there is happiness in the world Jane. Too little of it exists."

"That is…a nice sentiment." Jane admitted, and Thomas shrugged.

"Do you see that bridge over there?" Thomas asked, and Jane nodded. "It is where I had my first kiss, she was 9 and I was 10."

"That's sweet." Jane said softly, and Thomas smiled in remembrance.

"It was awful, but nice at the same time. Somehow, even then, that she was the one." Thomas said softly, his tone changing slightly.

"Does she live here with you?" Jane asked, and Thomas shook his head.

"No, sadly she passed away from cancer before we graduated highschool." Thomas said, and Jane went to offer condolences but her stopped her. "She was so full of life, Jane. She lived and loved to the full extent. It was she who urged me to go to law school, to embrace who I am – or was at the time. I never would have made it this far if I had never known her. It is why I am so interested in family law – especially bereavement cases."

"It is beautiful – to have loved so much." Jane replied.

"And continue to love, Jane. I spent all my time pushing myself to do amazing things- work harder, be better. I told you I played sports, I had a scholarship, yet I wanted to work – I needed to occupy every moment because otherwise she would be there. She has never left me, she is radiant- even in death."

"Will you not love again?" Jane asked, a strange forlorn tone to her voice.

"Perhaps, I don't know. I can honestly say I don't feel the need. I wish you could have met her Jane, you would have adored her; and she you. She sang, like an angel – and when she got sick I sang for her. In our third year of school, she was too sick to audition for the play we were putting on – Beauty and the Beast – so I did for her. I was chosen for Gaston, mostly because of my height, when I wanted to be the Prince. I had to wear a black wig and they drew eyebrows on me, and she loved every second of my prancing around on stage."

Jane smiled, she didn't know what else to say. She couldn't imagine loving someone so much, for so long – and so intensely as he seemed to love his girl. "What was her name?"

"Nioame." Thomas said, as he looked around; seeing the hotel looming close by. "You seemed shocked by my admission of this."

"Oh, no; not really." Jane said and Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"No? I had the distinct impression you are in love." Thomas stated and Jane felt the flash of truth and surprise on her face. "Are you not involved with the man in the elevator?"

"Mr. Rochester? Goodness no, he is my employer." Jane said quickly – too quickly she knew for Thomas gave her a knowing look, - "Besides, he is with Blanche – one of the group we are travelling with. He is just my employer, and a friend."

"Hmm." Thomas made a noise, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Adele. "He does not look at you as a friend."

"What do you mean?" Jane questioned, and Thomas shook his head before gesturing to the hotel.

"Nothing, Miss Eyre. My gentleman's senses must be off kilter today." Thomas shrugged, turning to Jane as they reached the side walk that ran across from the hotel. "While you are staying here, you must allow me to take you and Adele to one of my favorite parks."

"I don't see why not." Jane said, and Thomas grinned; stepping forward as the pedestrian light blinked.

"Excellent Jane!" Thomas said, getting his wallet out once more. "Here is my card, my cell phone number is that number – here. Give me a ring and I shall arrange a time and such." Jane nodded as she looked at the number, while Adele was taking her hand and saying something. "Oh and Jane, bring your bathing suit."

/

Jane made her way back to her hotel room after returning Adele to her own, the little girl needed a nap and Jane was more than willing to give her the time she needed to recover from her big outing. As she opened her door, she could feel his presence before she saw him – sitting on the couch in the living room like section of the room. His back was to her, and she recalled one of the first time she had met him. He didn't move a muscle as she shut she door behind her, or when she crossed the floor to her bedroom door. Not trace of sound could be heard from him, and she found it strange.

As she walked into her space, she saw boxes sitting on the bed; and Jane froze. Walking over slowly, she read the name on the top box – and she knew it. Swallowing the rising nerves in her throat, she took off the lid. Inside was a dress, folded delicately within the white tissue, it was a deep red with golden embossed designs only on the edge of the sweetheart neckline. It was strapless, and – as she picked it up and held it out infront of herself – flowed down. There was a lining inside that would cling to her curves as the rest of the fabric would flow out to the sides as she walked. Holding it up to her body, she turned to the full length mirror in her room, and felt a wave of emotion she didn't understand.

It was gorgeous.

Putting it back gently, she moved that box off the stack so she could look in the next, and the lace dress she had tried on stared back at her – but the boxes each were from different places. Overwhelming. That was the feeling that that rushed to her mind. Each dress was splendid, and only the one did she know. It was evident that these had been picked out with care, with her tastes in mind. The last dress reminded her of a sketch she had drawn – and she narrowed her eyes for a moment.

It was exactly as she had drawn.

She turned her head slightly to the door way, expecting him to be standing there; gloating perhaps? But no, he did not stand. He kept on reading whatever fascinated him so, and she turned her head back to the dresses and fought back the smile on her lips; and the fluttering in her heart.


	19. Chapter 19

"Good-night, my-" He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left me."  
― Charlotte Brontë, _Jane Eyre_

Jane put everything away, steeling herself for whatever he was going to say. "Sir?" The man did not stir from his seat, nor did he turn his head to her. Jane walked toward the doorway and watched him for a moment; she thought she saw a smile on his face for a split second – but she was convinced she was mistaken. "Mr. Rochester?" A low growl could be heard from the man in the chair, but no words as yet. "What is this?"

"What is what?" The man finally spoke, not turning his head to her; but merely flicked his paper. Jane was struck with the notion that she had never seen him read the paper before.

"There are items in-, I think whoever delivered these had the wrong room." Jane said firmly and He titled his head slightly – but not so he was looking at her.

"What are these items Jane?" He asked, and Jane sighed while furrowing her brows.

"Dresses, sir. In wide variety. No doubt you intended them for Blanche –

An indignant snort came from him, and Jane watched as he flicked the newspaper closed, turning now to look at her with a rather piercing view. They stared at one another for a moment, Jane did not have the energy for such a soulful confrontation, so she looked away. He stood then, reaching her quickly before walking into her room and opening the boxes. He stared at the first item and reset the lid before turning and walking out. "I see nothing wrong with them."

"Nor did I, merely that it was delivered to the wrong person." Jane said, and she saw him visibly restraining whatever he was feeling.

"Are they unsatisfactory Jane?" He asked, his voice was low and Jane shook her head and he sighed, pinching the skin between his eyes. "These are not for Blanche, Miss Eyre." Something in the tone of his voice stung her, but she gritted her teeth as she felt the rise of annoyance.

"Then why – what are they doing here?" Jane said, and he gave her a sharp look.

"Are you not familiar with gifts, Miss Eyre?" He snarled, and Jane huffed, placing her hands on her hips.

"When warranted!" She snapped. "I know of no reason why I should be given these!" He met her eyes steadily and the staring contest began once again; but Jane did not back down. "Would you please explain this to me?"

"There is nothing to explain."

"I cannot accept these." Jane growled, leaning forward and she saw the thoughts before she heard them.

"If you _must_ know, I agreed with Blanche that we needed to travel in a certain style – so I pu-

"I don't believe you." Jane said and he blinked in surprise.

"What?" He barked, looking down at her with a smile.

"I drew a sketch for Adele 4 months ago – and it now sitting in the bottom box." Jane said, watching his face as she spoke. "Unless you have a wizard in some hidden room making dresses for you on the fly – it would not take a week to make."

He sighed; shaking his head as chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Before Jane could say anything more, he held up a hand. "Wait Jane, You have found me out. The dresses were Adele's idea, she wanted to surprise you with the one you created and I pulled a few favors to get the others made. I thought you might enjoy it." Jane watched his expression for falseness, disbelief flooded through her – which he could see. "Is it so bad – Jane – to give you something which you need?"

"I need seven expensive dresses?" Jane asked, feeling the twitch near her eye and the man opposite strode away and raised his hands to the air. "This is absurd."

"Just take the damn things." Rochester growled. "We'll be late for dinner."

Jane watched as he went into his side, shutting the door loudly behind him and she sighed. _What a child._ She thought as she approached his door, tapping it lightly. "Adele and I had dinner with Thomas, so I ask that we be excused for tonight." Silence. Jane rolled her eyes while a chuckle escaped her lips as she raised her hand to touch the door, only to find empty air.

He had his shirt off, another in hand as he looked at her – an almost wild danger in his eyes. A muscular set of shoulders were stiff, straight; muscles were taut. His pants sat on his hips, a toned abdomen lay before her – close enough to touch, the twitch in his muscles as he fought to keep himself restrained. He had already put on a dash of cologne; the smell was subtle yet powerful. She wanted to put her head on those shoulders, feel the warmth and security - "Why would you be excused?"

_He had to open his mouth. _Jane restrained the urge to growl at him, roll her eyes, and walk away – "I have already eaten." She repeated and he sucked in a breath steadily.

"Do you think you can shirk your duty because you had late lunch with any random stranger who asks you?" He snarled and Jane moved her jaw to the side as he continued. How dare he insult Thomas – a stranger, yes, but a kind person whom had acted with kindness "No, Miss Eyre, you are not excused. You will pick out something from the trash heap you so willingly reject and you will join us for dinner."

"It is bad enough you make me suffer through the ridiculous dinner parties at Thornton, but here as well? Do you enjoy making me suffer?" Jane queried, and Rochester blinked as the severity of her tone. "While you seem to run around oblivious to the charms of the people you have brought with us – I am subject to their remarks and judgement; and so is Adele. I am not willing to risk her self-confidence for your childish whims."

He opened his mouth to speak but Jane turned on her heel before he could. "I shall come with you tonight, but Adele stays in her room with Sophie. I make no promises for tomorrow evening."

"You will abandon me –

"Don't be thoughtless." Jane snapped her back to him as she looked over her shoulder. "This is about Adele. How can you not see what their remarks do to her? She is a child, she so wants to be loved, liked – more than that – she needs it."

"Jane." The sound was so soft, warm, and engulfing – and near. She had not even heard him approach, the softness of his hands bled through her shirt as he touched her arms. He applied the smallest bit of pressure, his chest resting at her back as she unconsciously leaned back into his strength. "What troubles you, Jane?" She said nothing, only shivered as the faces from her past came to rushing at her; souls rejected from Heaven. "Jane." He whispered, and Jane easily felt herself being lost within him.

"You are going to marry Blanche, and she so dislikes Adele. No child deserves to be unloved." Jane said, trying to rouse herself from this state.

"Oh Jane." He utterly, so low she almost did not hear it - and he stepped away, forcing her to feel the cold once more. "May I talk to you of my lovely one?"

She felt herself suck in a breath, some part of her was screaming – but her unwavering discipline drowned it out. "Yes, of course sir."

"Then, pray get dressed for dinner Jane." He said, and he watched as she stood like a statue for a moment, her fingers gently running over the place where his hands had been before she moved silently into her room, closing the door softly behind her. He knew, oh, how he knew, he had pushed her too far; but the words and her look left him unsettled.

/

He finished adjusting the collar of his shirt, he heard her door open. He turned his head only slightly and felt the sensation so familiar – there she stood; in the green cocktail dress. It flowed to her knees, the soft fabric moved around her body, as it should, her hips made it sway like something he had never seen, yet he had seen great beauties walk along past him. The top was the best part of the dress, for it accentuated her figure with all the simplicity that she preferred while it was part of the grandeur she hid herself away from. Fabric clung to her ribs, attached to two long straps of material that were tied around her neck, the fabric covered her breasts while leaving so be desired; a layer of dark lace was sew in-between the straps, enough to cover any exposed skin near her breasts, but that extended no further. It was a worthwhile modification.

It fit perfectly.

She had done something with her hair it was in a simply updo, but it exposed the curve of her neck. She was even wearing a little make-up, it was so slight; but he knew. He had to turn away to hide his smile when he saw her shoes – matching for the dress. Simple flats, with only the slightest heel; but they were green with the dark lace overlay. He was grateful she had not found those when she originally searched the boxes.

"Where are going?" Jane asked after a moment, and she heard the chuckle but did not react.

"A place my lovely one will like, I took great care in picking it."

"Then I am sure she will adore it." She replied, her face remaining neutral as she waited for him by the door.

"If there is to be dancing tonight, will you give me the pleasure?" He asked, and she smiled only faintly as she replied yes, but on the condition it not upset Blanche; and he snorted.

"You look very nice." Jane said softly, and he leaned back from the mirror with a triumphant smile.

"Why, thank you Miss Eyre." He eyed her quickly, not too slowly lest his earlier gaze had been detected. "How nice green is on you." He said, and he hated himself for the lack-luster compliment when she looked so lovely. "You should wear it more often, it suits you." As she smiled, that little half smile that nearly made him sink to the floor, he grabbed his coat; tearing his eyes away from her. "Shall we be off then? I would not want to keep my lovely one waiting."

Jane nodded, opening the door as she untucked a dark purple clutch from under her arm – he smiled with no reservations at the sight. "Might I say Miss Eyre, that this new look is very becoming."

She sighed, just ever so slightly – almost defeated. "How much will this be from my wages?"

He stopped short, watching as she walked on without him – only turning once she realised she was alone. She turned her head softly on it's side, a question in her eyes as if it was the simplest thing. _Damn, damn, damn!_

"What are you talking about Jane?" He asked, and Jane blinked like she didn't understand. It was obvious – right then – that she had decided that the only way she could accept these gifts was if she paid for it. He growled, walking forward and taking her arm as he strode toward the elevator. "Not a damn penny."

"But-

"No "buts"; goddamn it Jane." He snarled as he pressed the elevator button. "You would never be able to afford these dresses if you worked for me for 50 years – so will you please just accept it."

"One condition." She said and he uttered a noise of disgust. "Alright, then I will retur-

"What is it?" He snarled as the door opened, and Jane smiled sweetly as she whispered her condition.

"That Adele and I are excused from dinner tomorrow night." Jane said, touching his arm softly before walking inside the elevator and standing to the far side of some of his guests. Jane stared at the wall, a smile playing on her lips as she fought the urge to laugh like she had won – small victories. She just might make it through the evening.


	20. Chapter 20

**I am sorry for not updating but I pulled well over 220 hours working. AHA so I hope you enjoy this! I am sorry if there are mistakes, I am so tired right now haha. I will edit later. I hope you enjoy! **

Jane felt the slump of her shoulders as she leaned back against the door, exhaustion pulsed through her body. She was shaking – she had never danced so much in her life. As Jane carefully got out of her dress, her mind mulled over the events of the evening.

_Blanche was wearing, to no one's surprise, a sensual dress that was tight on her body, the colour of royalty; the deep purple seemed to be littered with dusted gold – where there was fabric to be dusted, of course. She was the center of attention from the moment she stepped into the elevator; but her eyes went to Jane directly before she turned to her lover. "Is it really necessary to bring the help?" Blanche chastised as she ran her hand down his back, and Mr. Rochester smiled; a patronizing smile – Jane new – but he said nothing, just patted the woman's hand before his eyes met Jane's expressionless brown gems. _

_"You look very nice Jane." Mrs. Hudson said, and Jane thanked her. "Is it a new dress?" _

_"Yes, quite new. It was a gift." Jane replied easily, and the woman watched her carefully – never letting on the thoughts behind her asking. Blanche snorted before she laughed – this time she spoke to Jane directly. _

_"Whom do you know that could purchase such a thing?" Blanche questioned, looking Jane over – the woman must have known how expensive the material was, the quality of the seamstress; the list went on and on in Jane's mind. As Jane opened her mouth to speak, on of the young men in their company pipped up. _

_"Perhaps Miss Eyre has a wealthy relative." He offered, and Blanche wacked him with her hand. _

_"Don't be such a fool." Blanche hissed. "We know anyone worth knowing."_

_"Perhaps a boyfriend." Mrs. Hudson offered, and Blanche snorted, turning her eyes back to Mr. Rochester as he tried to speak –_

_"I bet it Miss Eyre does have a boyfriend Blanche." Henry said smoothly, walking over to Jane as they shifted in the elevator – the doors opening at it chimed. He smiled wickedly, placing an arm around Jane's shoulders as they moved. "Tell us Miss Eyre, who is he? A secret lover?" _

_Jane blinked at him, unimpressed and utterly confused at the whole conversation that had sprung up in a matter of minutes. "Is it that young man I spied you with today outside the dress shop?"_

_"Hardly, we met in the lobby." Jane replied, and Henry chuckled. _

_"Alright, then it must be an older man." As Jane felt her cheeks go red, Henry raised his eyebrows. "My word Miss Eyre! How utterly scandalous – so tell me, just how old is this secret lover?"_

_"Don't be completely absurd." Mr. Rochester growled, huffing as he did so; Blanche quick to validate that statement. "There is no such person." _

_"And why not?" Jane asked, regardless of her feelings for the man– some part of her felt offended. "What if there is someone?_

_"When have you had time to date anyone, Miss Eyre, you work for me; if you recall." Mr. Rochester replied coolly and Jane huffed._

_"There is more to my life than work." Jane retorted calmly. "I don't expect you to know if I was dating anyone, since you never bother to take an interest in my private life, sir." Mr. Rochester blinked at her, and Blanche scoffed at Jane's indignant reply. _

_"Do you have a boyfriend Jane?" He asked, his voice changing slightly and Jane felt the curve of her lips rise without her thinking._

_"Oh yes, several." She chirped as she moved past him to the door, fighting the laughter in her throat. _

_"Oho!" Henry exclaimed, looking triumphantly at Blanche. "You see Blanche, you don't know everyone in the Greater London area." _

_Blanche chuckled wryly, smiling at Henry before she looked to Jane. "Child's play, my dear Henry. She is obviously kidding, not to say just following your lead."_

_"Then where did the dress come from." Henry asked, his voice chipper and infused with good spirits as they walked to the cars. _

_"Yes, where did your dress come from?" Blanche asked, turning to stop Jane from getting in the car. _

_"It was a gift." Jane replied, fighting down the red she knew was creeping back to her face. _

_"Yes, you stupid girl, but from whom?" Blanche replied, leaning closer to Jane as she gestured the full length of her body. _

_"I am terribly sorry Miss Ingram, but a lady never tells." _

Jane chuckled as she settled into the bed - that had been the highlight of the evening; even if she had been out of line when speaking to her employers soon to be fiancé. Granted the car ride to the restaurant was long and tedious; everyone seemed more interested in the gossip of her non existent lover than her speaking to Blanche in such a way. Dinner – thankfully – came with a different topic and the group drinking more than 100 pounds in alcoholic beverages. Truthfully, Jane had never seen her employer drink before; so she had been slightly alarmed when they broke in a third bottle of wine for some unknown celebration.

It was not until that third bottle of wine that someone had mentioned her secret lover – or lovers – and the whole thing started up again.

The only person who was totally uninterested in the whole thing was Blanche – who suggested they go out to a club soon after. Jane had tried to decline; but to her surprise it was Henry and Frederick that insisted she come with them. Mr. Rochester had come too, unexpectedly, but he did not go so far as to sit in the same car as Henry, Frederick and herself.

_"This is the most exclusive party." Henry explained as Jane took a sip of whatever was in the flask – it tasted like cough medicine – passing it to Frederick next. "One of my school mates knows this up and coming DJ. Played at a party for Prince Harry." _

_Frederick snorted, choking down the drink as he tried to laugh. "Don't believe a word of this Miss Eyr- Jane; I can call you Jane can't I?" Jane nodded, unsure if this conversation would even be remembered the next day. "You will have to forgive my idiot brother – we did even go to school; we had tutors. You see Jane, my brother fancies himself as somewhat of a socialite; A DJ is probably code for someone's million dollar stereo system at an uptown apartment – _

_"Hang on – hang on. This is Georgie, from primary school. You remember how mum kept in touch with his mum after we moved." _

_"Oh Georgie Porgie!"_

_"You didn't call him that?" Jane asked, wincing internally. _

_"It is just a bit of fun." Henry said, and Jane frowned at him. _

_"Don't worry Jane, my brother is only a tosser when he's been drinking. George is a good lad, from what I can remember of him." _

_"I thought you had tutors" _

_"We did Jane! We did. Nasty old things, who made us do the most-_

_"You remember the time we put a frog in Mrs. Livingston's pocket? I never knew an old lady-_

_"Old lady! She was only thirty." _

_"Well we didn't know that." Frederick mused as Jane was looking out the window. "You see, you are boring the poor girl. Tell me Jane, have you ever been to a club before?" _

_"What?" _

_"A club Jane!" Henry said, slumping forward as he tried to take another swig from the flask. "Dancing, you know – hot and sweaty. The perfect place to meet all kinds of lovers." _

_"Oh no, I haven't." Jane replied, looking back at them as she felt her mind go slightly blurry. _

_"How haaave you lived?" Henry asked, and Jane chuckled as she shook her head. "As a nun?"_

_"Practically." Jane admitted. _

_"Well Jane." Frederick smiled, looking out the window. "Then we shall have to show you everything. Stick with us, and you shall have the time of your life." _

_"Just a little fun is fine with me." Jane said and Henry put his around her shoulders once again. _

_"Come on, let us see if we can't find you another lover." Jane laughed, and it was hearty. "Oh and Miss Eyre." Henry said, his voice nearly a whisper, "You secret is safe with me." _

_Jane looked after him with a confused expression as they all piled out of the car. It was a building – a grand looking building with a clear modern design. Inside – it was clearly not a building that Jane had ever seen. It had been completely transformed; two floors had been converted to a dancing space, with a bar tucked into different corners. The top floor was a lounge filled with dark, dim light that seemed to create shadows around the room. Different alcoves had been made, with little tables and delicious smelling mini chocolate cakes. _

_"This is-_

_"The hottest spot in all of London." Henry said, and Jane found herself wide eyed with wonderment. "Well what are you waiting for Jane – come dance." _

**_Well look _**_where are you _rat_?** who it is- **_

_The music pumped through her veins, the force of the base and the motion of the alcohol in her system made is easy to let loose – the boys had helped her by showing her how to dance to this particular music p- the rest, as they say, was history. _

**_Is that _**_rat! **Jane Eyre? Mother always ** not the red room, please! **said you would come to **_**nothing_. _**

_Faces twisting in the crowd, shadows of people she knew once upon a time._

_There was a tangle of bodies, all moving and gyrating against one another to the music. Henry and Frederick had been with her – yet as the night went on, she realised they were dancing with other people, granted the stranger she was dancing with was nothing short of gorgeous. And yet he resembled – _

**_That's _**_come to nothing **my book! **The stranger said, and Jane smiled and nodded – what was it he said again?_

_The light on the floor was strange – like it was changing from the dark blues and purples to a brigher red, a haunting – twisting, floating –_

**_No, no _**_If it isn't Jane Eyre** not the red room! Please! **_

_Hands, touching her, faces zooming past her. Hands – where were all the hands, and where was Frederick, or Henry – or –_

**_Let me out! Please! _**_Think over your _wickedness **_Forgive me! _**

_A familiar face in the crowd, the warmth and strength of his hand on her lower back, turning her towards him as he slides beside her on the dance floor, whispering – "Jane." Jane turned, offering a warm smile to him as he put his arm around her gently, a strength she so needed _

_"Jane." _

_He took her upstairs, away from the loud music and the unfamiliar faces. There was soft music playing, and someone was handing out Champaign and there was slow classical music playing. _

_"Jane." _

_The red was fading away in the background, the voices_

"Jane, wake up Jane." That familiar voice, and the blurry image that started to come into view as she opened her eyes; his face was so close to hers, his voice was soft – but rattled.

"Sir-." Jane mumbled, "Wha-

"You were screaming Jane. Something about a red room?" He said softly, stroking her cheek lightly, wiping away a tear.

"I was?" Jane blinked, wondering when she had fallen asleep. When had the pleasant memories of the evening turned into this nightmare her brain had created? A horrifying mixture of the red room and the dancing floor, the dream was fresh in her mind; the faces of her cousin sneering at her, their voices echoing in her mind from this afternoon. "Oh – I'm sorry-

"Shhh, Jane. You are safe, here – with m-" He cleared his throat, watching as Jane shivered and rubbed her eyes. "Shall I leave you then?"

Jane opened her mouth to speak, but only managed to choke back a strangled sob as she felt tears come to her eyes again. _Why now? Why did they invade my head?_ Jane did not know what to say, but the gentleness and the warmth he offered was retreating when she needed it the most. "Please." She managed to whisper, barely raising her eyes to him as he moved through the door way. Lying back down, she wiped her eyes as she pulled the blankets up around her – drifting off again slowly, restlessly.

Jane didn't feel herself being lifted out of bed, and the action did not register. Was it a dream? Was she in her own bed or that of another; the familiar smell of his cologne came to her sense – but that did not matter. She could heard his heart beat, the steady rhythm beat in her ears as she felt her head rest on his shoulder. This figment of her imagination must have been sitting, but between the sleepiness and the haze, Jane only wished for his arms to stay around her – not saying a word as she once again entered her dreams.


	21. Chapter 21

**I am sorry for such a late update. I hope to have more regular updates for you all. I looked at this story and wow! over 7000 people have looked at this. That is so *****tears up***** beyond amazing. Thank you all for being patient and leaving such wonderful reviews! **

"Good morning." The voice on the other side of the telephone said, "I was about to give up hope you'd call."

Jane smiled, looking down at her feet while she fought off the pain in her head and queasy stomach. "I couldn't – wouldn't – dare. Adele is far too excited for me to cancel. I fear, though, that we did not bring swimming material."

"Ah." The line went silent for a moment as Jane rummaged through her bag for something to wear – finding a simple pair of trousers and a loose t-shirt near the bottom. "Well, as it happens, they sell swim suits there I believe. Or perhaps you prefer a more exotic flare? I have heard of several boutiques that sell swim wear close to the hotel."

"Certainly not, a regular old swim suit will do just fine for both of us." Jane replied easily, not hiding the laughter as it came, not caring if her suit mate heard; Jane held the suspicion he was not in the hotel room this morning.

"Come now Jane, don't you know there is nothing more refreshing than seeing a woman in a leopard print suit that looks closer to having been attacked by an animal- or perhaps strings of dental floss."

"Good lord, is that what passes for fashion these days?" Jane barked, tugging on some underwear after switching the phone to speaker. "I am surprised you men can pay attention to anything with items like that around."

"Our ancestors were quite wise not to place our offices near swimming holes, indeed." Thomas replied, and Jane snorted as he laughed on the other side. "Nothing gets past you – does it Jane?"

"That might be stretching it too far." She replied, "I have not had the pleasure of being labelled intuitive very often, so I fear it is misplaced."

"You dare disagree with my overpriced education?" Thomas chirped from the line, and Jane smiled.

"Completely." Jane replied, utterly a small groan as she touched her stomach.

"Jane?" There was a silence in the room. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes I think so." She replied, sitting on the bed as the thought of putting on pants disturbed her. "I attended a dinner last night with my travelling party, and I must have pulled a muscle dancing; my stomach is pitifully sore."

Again there was silence on the line, and when he spoke – Thomas' voice was solemn. "Were you drinking?"

"Yes, one of the boys suggested a gin and tonic." She replied, and it sounded like Thomas was either very angry or very disappointed on the other line. "Thomas – are you there?"

"Do you drink often Jane?"

"No, not at all. I-

"Where was your employer during all this?" The tone was cold, and unyielding.

"He was there, though he took a separate car to the club." Jane explained, feeling rather defensive.

"Well thank god for that."

"I wasn't in any danger." Jane stated, and there was a chuckle from the other line.

"No?" A moment of silence – yet again, Jane noted. "Tell me Jane, do you have a rather nasty headache this morning?"

She smiled, touching her forehead lightly at the mention of it. "Yes, as it happens."

"Well, Miss Jane Eyre – you are experiencing what we men of the world like to call a _hangover_. Rouse Adele and meet me in the lobby in half an hour – I will bring something by way of a cure."

The line beeped and went dead – but Jane was still smiling as she rose to put on the rest of her clothes. She wished she had something other than jeans, but they would do well enough – at least the shirt was bagging and rather unflattering. Taking her phone, and remembering her wallet, she exited her room only to find –much to her surprise – that her employer was sitting at the small table with the newspaper held high to shield his features.

She had no wish to break his concentration – nor get any closer to the food that was sitting on the table. Her best option, by all manner of consideration, was to leave and meet Thomas in the lobby like planned. "Is that sound I hear an indication that you are alive, Miss Eyre?"

"Good morning sir."

The newspaper made a sound, and it was very abruptly crumpled in half – his eyes watching her severely as a smile played on his lips. "What manner of greeting is this? No utterance of thanks, is this the standard to which you hold yourself Mis- goodness Jane, what state of undress you are in! You can't possibly consider going out into the world wearing such a thing."

Jane blinked – it was more words than they normally shared, and he was looking at her so harshly it made her wonder if she had committed some crime last night. "What thanks did you require sir? We have already settled the matter with the dresses, or so I thought." Unlike their usual banter, she had no single ounce of energy for it this morning – she looked paler than usual, or at least by her own standard.

"I am speaking of last night, or rather, this morning – Jane." He rose, striding over and almost leaning over her as she met his eyes unsteadily – a wave of stomach pain flushing through her. "Or is it possible you do not recall the events…" He trailed off, narrowing his eyes at her as he caught sight of her hands shaking; it caused a twinge of guilt to rush through him. "Shall I tell you Jane, of the impassioned night we shared?" He whispered, leaning forward ever so – so that his lips may brush against her ear as he spoke, seeing the heat rise on her face as her lips opened and closed – unable to find the words to reply. "Dare I explain how it can to be that I ended with you in my arms in the wee hours of the morning –

"I recall everything until my head touched my pillow, my dreams are never exciting enough to warrant remembering." Jane replied, meeting his eyes steadily as she moved away. "It is not right to tease me, when we both know the one you desire is in another room within this hotel." Glancing at the phone, Jane moved toward the door – grabbing her shoes as she passed.

"What is the red room, Jane?" He asked – the very mention of it caused her to freeze mid movement – looking over her shoulder at him.

"What?"

"The red room Jane, have you not heard of it?" He asked, watching her expression of amusement fade completely.

"I only wonder how you have, sir." Jane replied as she stood straight, self consciously touching her hair as it lay tied neatly in its braid.

"You were dreaming of it Jane, and a rather violent dream it was." He answered, softening his voice to speak; seeing the tears forming on her eyes as he spoke. "Tell me what it is Jane, to cause you such distress."

"It is just as it sounds - a room of red." She answered bluntly, steeling herself against her emotions. Catching his eyes, she sighed – looking to the ceiling. "It is the room where my uncle died, and his ashes kept. As a child I believed his ghost haunted it, so I was often placed within whenever she felt I had behaved badly."

The statement was so simple, yielding so little information yet just enough for him to sense to desperation behind her cold words. Pushing himself off the counter, he put his arm around her – pulling her hard against his chest as he breathed in the fresh flower scent of her shampoo. Her small hands scrunching the fabric of his shirt on his back as she returned the hug. "No wonder you screamed out in the night – what match is Miss Eyre of the fairy folk to a vengeful ghost."

Nodding into his shirt, Jane fought back the urge to linger there. "I need to fetch Adele." She stated, leaving his embrace and the warmth of the room.

/

Adele was merrily singing along to a French song that was playing in the shop as Jane was forced to try a variety of suits until she found one that was suitable. Adele had found one for herself rather quickly, and Thomas was more than happy to keep her entertained.

"Are you going to show us?"

"Certainly not." Jane replied as she pulled the curtain back, holding up a suit of her liking.

"Excellent. Lead the way to the register, miss – and we shall be off!" Thomas told the child, who happily ran over with her desired swimsuit. "Ah, the classic one piece. Very sensible for water park."

"All the others made my hips look strange." Jane replied, putting the suit up on the counter with Adele's, handing the women her card when it was ready. Adele offered to carry the bags, and Jane didn't see the harm in it – the car wasn't too far away.

Adele was placed in the back; she was used to that – Jane supposed. However, Jane was not used to sitting in the passenger seat of the car. It was a strange feeling, being not otherwise unpleasant. "How is your head?" Thomas inquired as they started was drove, glancing at her with a knowing smile.

"Better, even though that stuff you gave me was disgusting. What ever was in that drink?" Jane asked, managing to smile back.

"Secret recipe I'm afraid, can't part with it. Old legal secret." Thomas teased, and Jane huffed in reply. "I am glad you are feeling better, but I must say Jane – I have to warn you against this lot of people."

Taken aback, Jane simply watched him for a moment. "There was no danger –

"Jane, listen to me. There can be no good of a group of young men plying a young woman with alcohol – not unless you know them very very well, and trust them with your life. Please don't look at me like that Jane." Thomas stated softly, "You can not afford to be lax concerning this issue, these friends of yours do you no good with this course of actions."

"They are not my friends, Thomas, but friends of my employer." Jane tried to explain, but Thomas refused to listen.

"He is not your friend either, for it sounds like he did nothing to prevent it." Thomas said flatly.

"We were at separate table-

"Jane." Thomas huffed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Try to think of it from another perspective."

"He was the one to come and get me Thomas, I do not think he was aware I had even left the restaurant before then. But I see your point, I will be more careful in future."

"I am glad to hear it – and feel free to call me at any time if you wish, I am usually up all hours of the day." Thomas said, leaning forward as he stopped at a light. "Miss Adele, can you see the big green slide up there?"

Adele leaned forward, trying to fight against the seatbelt in order to see the slide he was talking about. "Oui."

"I bet you that Miss Jane here will go down that slide first." Thomas said, and Jane squinted at it before shaking her had and touching her stomach.

"Not a chance." Jane stated, getting a wide array of chatter from Adele and Thomas as he turned the corner. "All right, all right – but only if you all come with me."

"I have never been to a slide park before." Adele said softly, and Jane gently corrected her on the proper termination.

"Neither had Jane, I'll wager." Thomas teased, and Jane nodded. "Ho! Then there is much to do today. Adele, it is up to me to show you both what you are missing." He grinned wickedly as he parked, turning the car off before practically racing both girls to the change rooms.


	22. Chapter 22

**First of all, thank you everyone who has followed, reviewed, sent messages - all of it - I appreciate it so much. I never, ever, expected for this to go so long un-updated. I beg, BEG, you forgiveness. I know I have been putting out a lot for another fandom - and that is because I ran for student politics last year - won (didn't think I would) and was dealing with real life politicians and dealing with the Canadian provincial (in my case) and federal (also) election so I got bogged down and the harry potter universe saved me from my high, high, high stress levels. **

**BUT - I am here, I have not forgotten this story, nor am I abandoning you guys! Thanks for hanging on so long. I hate making you guys wait. 1.5 years. I'm such a bad author. I'm so sorry. I am no longer a student (graduated!) so, more time! **

**Anyway, I have an update, I hope you enjoy it as it is the first to come. **

**Love you all!**

* * *

Jane, being a creature of little excitement, loved the water park.

They had spent most of the morning going up and down the big green waterslide, which proved much faster than she had expected. Next was the sleek yellow slide, followed by the red.

There had been a few moments where the Adele had not been tall enough to ride on the slide, so all three of them had gone down together. It had happened a few times, and yet – Jane never felt the least bit self-conscious.

In fact, she never thought of anything but what ride they were going to next.

The rush of the slides.

The endless laughter and bubbly feeling in her stomach.

The giggles escaping from Adele as Thomas, and Jane of course, took her down different slides.

It was, in a word: angelic.

Sitting there, in a pool tube, floating with the noise from the other families and the general overcrowding – Jane felt a sense of stillness and joy that could only be matched with the company of the man she loved.

A man whom she could no more imagine in a water park, playing waist deep in water with a child – any child, let alone Adele.

"Jane!" Thomas called, breaking her concentration. Turning her head, she saw him gesture for her to join them as he held up what looked like a hot dog. "Come on!"

Her stomach growled, and she obeyed, giving up her play on the winding river and moving through the crowd – who was equally dripping wet.

Her one piece, a nice blue colour, was not actually made of much fabric. Everything was covered in the front, save for diamond shaped section of her middle, and the back was extremely low; but it fit her like a glove, and was surprisingly comfortable – despite the French cut.

"What is this?" she asked, risking the redundancy of the question.

"Lunch," Thomas beamed, passing her a hotdog with great enthusiasm. "Come on, try it."

Her stomach, though settled – despite the amount of running around they had been doing – did not agreed with him. "You know this is hooves and brains compacted, correct?"

He snorted, putting it in her hands gently. "Eat it, trust me, it will do you good."

"It is good!" Adele managed to say, her mouth full; mustard and ketchup on her chin. "You must try it!"

"Do not talk and eat at the same time Adele," Jane urged, watching as Thomas took what was, most likely, the largest mouthful she had ever seen. He made it look delicious, and somehow attractive.

Thomas, Jane had decided, could make anything look attractive.

He was very fit, with edges, and defined muscles that made his swim suit look more like a placemat rather than an article of clothing.

He never changed either, she noticed, watching as he took another sensual bite of the hot dog – as she herself took one - making Adele giggle.

She had to admit, it tasted as divine as he made it look – but that might have been because she had not eaten breakfast _or_ that this was the only the second time in her life she had eaten a hot dog.

"Well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he licked some sauce off his face. "Does it pass muster, Miss Eyre?"

"It does," she announced, before taking another bite, making a face he would be proud of – Mrs. Fairfax would have died at the sight. "It's delicious, thank you."

"You are most welcome, Jane." Thomas replied gently, "I am glad you to see you enjoying yourself so much. I but you had forgotten about food entirely."

"I admit it, freely." Jane nodded, looking at Adele – who wore a look of _you forgot about food?_

"What shall we do next?" Adele asked, her hotdog having been inhaled; rather than consumed. "Oh, please, let us have our picture taken!" she pointed to a large cut out of a fish, an octopus and a seahorse; each with their heads cut out of them. They had taken several – hundred – pictures all day, so this did not surprise either of the adults.

"What a fine idea," Thomas agreed. "I think you would make a rather dashing octopus."

"No!" Adele protested, giving him a wild look. "I am the seahorze."

Jane, slowly finishing her meal, found her eyes wandering to a tall structure not too far away. The line was long, though there were others far longer, and she wondered what it was. "Thomas," she called out gently, "What is that, over there, on the far side of the green slide?"

Thomas turned, carefully studied the place in question, then looked her in the eye and said, "It's a bungee jump Jane, all the major water parks have them now. Want to try it?"

"Goodness no!" she protested, feeling her stomach flip flop. "I like my feet firmly planted on the ground."

"Skydiving out too then?" he asked, suddenly picking up Adele and twirling her around – people moving out of the way.

"Definitely out." Jane replied, smiling.

"There goes my plan for us tomorrow, dash it all." He teased, putting the giggling child on the ground.

"Have_ you_ ever been skydiving?" Jane inquired, wiping her hands clean.

"No, but I want to. Just to say I have."

"I couldn't do it." Jane shivered, walking over to the fish was Thomas asked a worker to take their picture.

With a, "1. 2. 3. Cheese!" They were off and running, headed to the next ride – or slide – until one, or all, could no longer find the energy to go anywhere.

Or until closing – whichever came first.

/

The car ride back was, perhaps, the longest ride Jane had ever been on. She felt the dark circles under her eyes, she didn't need a mirror to see them. Her skin ached, her bones ached – even her hair ached.

Adele was asleep in the backseat, her wet hair left to dry in a braid, while her expensive clothes got wrinkles – not that it mattered. Jane had forced Adele to change out her suit, while Jane had lacked the energy to peel herself out of the wet one piece, so the ride back was uncomfortable as well as heavy lidded. Even Thomas looked like he might nod off at any second – but he didn't.

He had even carried the poor child up to her room so that they did not have to wake her.

Mrs. Fairfax had not been in the room, but sweet Sophie had been – so they could both get rest of their own.

"I'll walk you back to your room Jane," Thomas stated, looking at his friend carefully. "I wouldn't want you to fall asleep in the elevator and miss your floor."

"Heavens," she gasped, trying to create the sound one might when mocking another. "How utterly scandalous it would be to manage to miss a _private_ floor."

"Yes." Thomas mused, his voice low, letting her lean on him as they stepped into the elevator and yawned. "You know, I don't think I have even been this tired before."

"Makes you rethink the idea of a large family," Jane nodded seriously. "Can you imagine being in a place like that with 4 children?"

Thomas chuckled, leaning his head back on the elevator panel. "I can actually. I think it would be marvelous."

"You're insane." She muttered, "I feel as if I have run six marathons and we took one child there."

"Ah," he made a sound, "But you are hungover, and are therefore more tired than I."

"Tsk," she made a clicking noise with her tongue and nodded. "True, true." The door dinged, and she groaned at the idea of moving. Stepping off, they walked in silence for a bit – both of them nursing headaches from the absence of noise. Upon reaching the door of her room, Jane faced him, opening her arms to give him a hug. "Goodnight Thomas, and thank you for an amazing day."

His hug was gentle, strong, and lasted not a second longer than it should have. He withdrew and bowed, making a grand sweeping notion designed to make her smile – and it worked. "My dear Miss Eyre, it delighted me to no end to see you enjoy yourself today. I hope we can tarry again soon."

"I'll call you," she giggled, shaking her head as she pulled out her room card. "Be off with you, sir."

"Text me Jane, I'll have my phone on vibrate for the next few days." He informed her turning and striding away.

She waited, why? – she didn't really know.

But, like that, she was alone again.

Opening the door, she entered into the place she was staying and had to make herself remember that not all the days of her life were like today.

Adele didn't giggle, or laugh, or have her smiles returned at Thornton like she had today.

Mr. Rochester certainly act so openly, honestly – forwardly – with her as he had done here.

In a rush, with Thomas' absence, she suddenly felt very sad and quite alone.

Putting her towel and bag down by her side of the room, Jane walked over to where Mr. Rochester's room, raising her hand to the door – her knuckles forming a first when she heard moaning coming from inside.

Swallowing hard, Jane lowered her hand, gasped the door handle and pushed the door open – fully prepared to see her employer bleeding or something of that nature.

Not – _that_.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her face going red, eyes averted and hand suddenly up to protect herself. "Oh God."

"Jane!" he gasped, "Bloody hell, get out!"

Nodding mutely, she practically ran.

"Shut the fucking door!"

She didn't, instead she went to her own room and shut hers – going immediately to the bed to sit and breathe; trying to wipe that image from her mind.


	23. Chapter 23

[12:31 am]

_Thomas?_

* * *

[12:31 am]

_Jane? Why are you still awake?_

* * *

[12:33 am]

_I just wondered if you knew anything about yoga?_

* * *

[12.35 am]

_…._

* * *

[12:37 am]

_Yoga? Jane, do you know what time it is?_

* * *

[12:38 am]

_I can't sleep._

* * *

[12:38 am]

_That does not explain the sudden interest in yoga._

* * *

[12:39 am]

_:P_

* * *

[12:41 am]

_This doesn't involve your employer does it?_

* * *

[12:42]

_Maybe._

* * *

[12:43 am]

_Fine. Fine. What do you want to know, how to do the downward dog?_

* * *

[12:45 am]

_What? No. I just wanted to know how hot yoga is usually done._

* * *

[12:46 am]

_…_

_there is a story here, isn't there?_

* * *

[12:47 am]

_There might be…._

* * *

[12:48 am]

_I only know that hot yoga is good for losing weight. Loads of people do it in shorts or as little as possible. It's a big sweaty mess. Are you thinking of taking it up? I don't know shite about where to go._

* * *

[12:49 am]

_Do people ever do it naked?_

* * *

[12:50 am]

_If it's hosted at a nudist colony, I suppose. Why?_

* * *

[12:51 am]

_I guess that's how he keeps in shape._

* * *

[12:52 am]

_Wait, whatg? He does yoga _naked?_ How did you find that out?_

_What*_

* * *

[12:53 am]

_Oh no, don't tell me you walked in on it? Ha, ha! Jane, tell me it isn't true._

* * *

[12:54 am]

_You can't tell anyone!_

* * *

[12:55 am]

_I wouldn't dare. ;P _

_Goodnight Jane._

* * *

[12:56 am]

_Thomas? You can't tell anyone. Thomas?_

* * *

[1:05 am]

_Please, Thomas? He'd kill me if I told someone._

* * *

[1:10 am]

_Yes, fine, I solemnly swear not to breath a word of you seeing your employers junk. I will send a length list of what laws that breaks to you tomorrow, as well as a list of job openings. Deal?_

* * *

[1:11 am]

_Deal. XD _


	24. Chapter 24

It was all she could do to _not_ dream of him when she fell asleep. The mind has a funny way of interpreting information, especially when it involved a member of the opposite sex. Jane's mind, having been exposed to the naked form before, naturally remembered each and every curve of his spine as he had stood in his pose. The taunt lines of his skin as his muscles were tensed to hold position.

Her dreams merely overlapped what sensory information she had and overlapped with a tragic episode of Baywatch and a segment of the little mermaid.

It was half nightmare, half tantalising.

Waking, Jane felt more confused than anything, not trusting her own face not to betray her upon seeing her employer at breakfast.

Dressing in something casual, a dark green shirt and leggings paired with a cardigan she didn't remember packing, Jane emerged from her room running her fingers through freshly dried hair. To her great surprise, she did not see Mr. Rochester sulking, lounging, or pouting in the shared interior the apartment like hotel room.

_Buzz Buzz. _

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket as she approached the small fridge. Pulling it out of her back pocket, she stifled the urge to giggle as she read the message.

_[8:32am] _

_Any naked shenanigans this morning? Or are such things limited to evenings and hot apartments? _

Taking out the orange juice, which she wasn't entirely she was entitled to drink, Jane looked for two glasses as she thought of a witty reply. Honestly, she had wondered how Edward kept in such good shape. Running only did so much, and he had quite good muscle definition.

_[8:44am] _

_I honestly have no idea. I didn't even know he did yoga. Maybe it was all a bad dream. _

Pouring herself some juice, she waited for a reply as her mind went back to the contours of his body. She longed to put the image to paper. They had many different types of models for the classes, but there was a different quality about his physique that made it more memorable.

_[8:50am]_

_A dream is wish your heart makes right? :P_

Laughing, Jane felt the blush rise without much provocation. "Bloody hell," she muttered, placing the phone on the counter.

"Swearing this early in the morning Jane?" the voice purred as he leaned the wall beside her. "Bit unusual for you isn't it?"

"Bit ripe coming from you," she replied, looking at him evenly before letting her eyes travel up and down his body. "I'm surprised you decided to grace my presence with clothes on."

His eyes sparkled in a dangerous manner as his lips twitched, as if they dared to smile or frown. "I am so hideous to look at, Jane?"

"I have always preferred the female form," she bluffed, taking another sip of her juice as she judged his expression. "Or did you think I had not seen a naked man before?"

Chuckling, running a hand through his hair, he let the smile appear through his features. "You prefer Venus over Adonis, is that it?"

"I prefer any of the classics over bursting in on my employer, but yes. Who wouldn't prefer Venus?" she kept her eyes level with his. "Isn't that why you prefer Blanche? She's very…."

He barked out laughter then, his eyes dancing. "If Blanche is Venus then the standards have dropped."

Pursing her lips, Jane made a noise with her tongue. "If you won't find her attractive then you must be with her for the sex, making her which goddess? Hera?"

Pushing himself off the wall, he moved past her. "I'm not going to discuss _that_ with you Jane."

Snorting herself, Jane rolled her eyes. "Please. I've seen you naked _sir_, how much mystery is there? I'm not Adele, I know what goes on between a man and a woman."

Silence followed, and Jane knew she had gone too far when he turned and looked at her. It was feral, or at least as feral as she had ever seen him.

"Do you, Jane?" he whispered, stepping over to her, placing his hands on the cupboards behind her. Unable to look away, she merely blinked at him.

"I took biology like everyone else."

The wild look suddenly cleared as he cupped her face with his hand, running this thumb over her cheek gently.

He moved away just as suddenly, his shoulders slightly slumped, leaning on the wall opposite. "Oh Jane," he sighed. "Dear, sweet, Jane. You are just a child. Perhaps I should hire someone more experienced to teach Adele about those particular ways of the world."

_That patronizing! _

"Teach her yourself, you clearly have ample experience." She muttered, feeling angry and somehow insulted. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something had important had just transpired, more important than having seen his naked booty the night before.

"Perhaps Blanche might, she is a woman of the world." He mused, looking at the ceiling.

Stifling the urge to groan, she pushed herself off the counter. "Do what you like, I should go and help Adele pick out her dress for the Opera tonight. We are required to eat dinner with you all tonight, yes?"

"If it isn't too much trouble," he offered with a shrug. "Perhaps you can wear the red dress tonight. It would match the tie I am planning on wearing tonight."

"Who wears red to the Phantom of the Opera?" she retorted quickly as she headed for the door. "I'm wearing the gold one."


	25. Chapter 25

The whole day passed quickly, yet it seemed as if the clock had only moved five minutes each time she glanced at it. Adele was in no mood to sit and fuss about her hair, preferring to spend all her time twirling in her dress or arguing,

"But I am old enough to wear ze makeup!"

"I already said you could wear lip gloss," Jane replied, her voice edgy. Sophie watched with a frown from across the room. "I don't want to hear any more about it."

The topic came up roughly thirty minutes later when Adele was sure Jane had forgotten her ruling. After several rounds of the banter, Jane gave into letting the child wear a little eye shadow with her lip gloss in exchange for letting Sophie style her hair.

It was worth the compromise.

Hopefully Mr. Rochester would agree.

When the time came for Jane to retreat back upstairs to get ready herself, she felt exhausted. Carefully going through the boxes, Jane eyed the dark, dusty rose dress that lingered in the shadows of its tissue paper. The gold caught her eye as she moved about her room, the curling iron she had borrowed from Sophie heating up on the bathroom counter, while the gold dress hung on the back of the bathroom door like a beacon of rebellion.

Long sheer sleeves covered in golden beads came up to the shoulders of the dress before dropping down to a low v; all covered in the same pattern fabric. At the waist a creamy gold fabric hung down, blowing gently when she moved past it.

It was simply, compared to the red one, and elegant. It suited her tastes far better than the red one could.

_I should know, _she thought bitterly, _I designed it. _

Turning to the mirror, Jane picked up the curling iron and bit her bottom lip. She wasn't big on fancy hair and makeup, but this – this one night; she had been looking forward to this opera since she was a teenager. Singing along to the songs on YouTube in school, and dreaming that one day she could afford to see it.

She wanted to look her best.

* * *

_[4:40pm] _

_I'm at your door. I brought a colour that will make your lips simply_ pop.

* * *

_[4:41pm]_

_It's not like I know anything about lipstick. I called my ma and asked her what she could do. BTW she agrees with me. The gold dress is much better. XD_

* * *

Smiling as her phone vibrated, Jane finished zipping up the gold dress and slipping on a matching pair of heels. Throwing her phone into a matching clutch, Jane headed for Thomas and the promise of matching lipstick.

Holding her breath, she poked her head out the door and made sure her employer was nowhere to be seen. He was going to see her anyway, but she really didn't feel like being teased dramatically before going out to eat.

When satisfied, Jane stepped out and jogged over to the door, feeling her hair bounce on behind her. Stepping back as the door swung back, she smiled and let the air out of her lungs.

"I'm so glad you're here, I'm totally hopeless at this stuff."

Thomas, who smiled at her gently, held out a small tube. "This is you being hopeless?"

Jane tilted her head to the side and rolled her eyes, reaching for the tube. "Ha-ha. Funny."

"Jane Eyre, the only woman in the world who has never purchased lipstick," Thomas mused, chuckling, tossing the tube to her. "There are worse things, Jane."

"You obviously haven't spent much time in the company of my employer's friends," she muttered, ripping off the plastic. "Want to come in for a minute?"

"I don't think it's safe for my health," he chuckled, smiling broadly. "You look very pretty Jane, but you don't need makeup. It hides your freckles."

Looking up at him from under her lashes, she squinted at him. "Aren't you supposed to say how it bring out my eyes or something?"

"Probably," Thomas nodded, "But then there will be nothing for your employer to say."

Glaring at him, Jane opened her mouth to reply when he turned and started walking toward the elevator.

"Have a good night Jane!"

"Thanks," she replied, finding it hard to be mad at him. "And thanks for the lipstick."

"Don't mention it!"

Stepping back into the apartment, shutting the door behind her, Jane tossed the plastic into the garbage and jogging back into her quarters. The lipstick was a dark plum colour, which surprised her, but somehow she agreed with Thomas' choice.

It brought out the hues of dark gold in the beads of the dress.

Looking at her long curls, which she had slaved over, the light pink and brown eye shadow highlighting her eyes, mascara on her eyelashes, the hint of pink on her cheeks, and the dark plum colour on her lips; Jane Eyre didn't look or feel like Jane Eyre at all.

_It's too late now to straighten my hair,_ she thought in a panic – her thoughts turning to Blanche and how elegant she would look.

A loud rap on the door made her jump, and she put her hand to her chest and felt her heart racing.

_I can't go out looking like this, _she thought as _his_ voice came through.

"Jane, are you ready?"

Opening her eyes, she felt her anxiety rising.

"Jane?"

"Coming."

Throwing the lipstick in her purse, she quickly brushed out her curls out; giving her a softer, more unearthly look – quite unintendedly.

Opening the door, Jane grasped her clutch as if it was her only lifeline, meeting his gaze steadily. "Ready."

His face revealed nothing, if he was impressed with how the gown fit her; he didn't show it. He offered her his arm, and she took it hesitantly, walking her to the door.

"Ah, wait," he said softly, returning to his room for a moment and appearing with a white coat over his arm. "I can't have you catching cold now, can I?"

"Do you have one for Adele as well?" she asked, watching him closely for any hint of emotion.

"I had it sent down earlier," he replied as he opened the door, eyeing her quickly. "I saw that you two decided on wearing matching eyeshadow. A little young to be turning her into her mother, don't you think?"

Taken aback, Jane felt the words leave her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. "I thought it was men that made whores of women, not the other way around." She felt the blush creep over her face and she felt suddenly ashamed – but was unwilling to justify her defense of unkind remark.

"Quite so," he said softly. "I'm sorry Jane, I should have said something so unkind when you were only trying to make it fun for her."

"Why say it all?" she asked, stepping out into the hall. "Never mind, sir, don't answer that. Just tell her how pretty she looks. Her dress matches your tie, and she is so happy to go with you. She loves you so."

He chuckled, though it sounded to Jane more like a growl, as they walked toward the elevator. "Is she the only one, Jane?"

"I am sure Blanche does as well," Jane said softly, keeping her eyes ahead. "Where is dinner tonight?"

"Ah," Mr. Rochester murmured, hitting the down button, before holding up the jacket for her to slip on. "That is a surprise, for my lovely one."

She mouthed her response and stepped inside the doors when they opened, finding the air stiff between them as it lurched downwards. "When does the show start?"

"We are catching the 8pm show, I believe. My box has been reserved, and then the cars will bring us back here. Oh, and there has been a change in the plans. I must remain in London for an extra day, you will bring Adele back with my lovely one tomorrow morning." He instructed her, facing forward the entire time.

"Yes sir, of course."

"Oh Jane," he sighed, leaning back against the elevator doors. "We are friends, aren't we?"

"I think we have already established that, haven't we?"

"Yes," he smiled, glancing over at her, "We have. I just wish you wouldn't call me sir. It makes me feel like an old man."

"You are an old man," she teased, smiling, "One of the benefits of hot yoga is to stall the aging process, isn't it?"

She thought she detected a hint of red on his cheeks as the elevator doors opened and Blanche appeared.

"Darling," Blanche cooed, followed by her family and friends. "You look good enough to eat."

Mr. Rochester chuckled, but didn't say anything as she wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, I thought you were going to were the red tie."

"I must have left it at the estate." He replied easily with a shrug, as Blanche was saying how she'd manage with the colour.

She felt her mouth go dry as she saw the colour, forcing her eyes to face forward to prevent her face from giving way what would be obvious on her features.

He was wearing a gold tie that was the _exact_ same shade as her dress.

_How could I not even notice his tie,_ she wondered, chancing a glance back. Jane felt foolish as she found him to be watching Blanche with a warm expression that made her stomach turn sour.

_How could I be so foolish. _


	26. Chapter 26

The dinner was held at an upscale restaurant that made jane feel very much more out of place than the whole rest of the trip put together. One meal cost more than she made in three months alone, and her eyes nearly bugged out when she _casually_ glanced at the price of wine Blanche had ordered.

The only bonus to the whole evening/event was that the restaurant was French, and Adele was quite happy to chat with the waiter in her native tongue. Jane was content in the knowledge that Blanche, for all her money, spoke horrendous – no atrocious - French. While Mr. Rochester seemed not to notice, Jane wondered if love had truly turned him blind – even Adele commented on it.

The meal, of which Jane ordered a classic quail dish, was divine. Adele agreed to eat everything on her small plate in order to enjoy a small dessert – something Mr. Rochester seemed happy to let Jane make the decision on.

She decided that baked apple pie was alright, on this special occasion. And it would help Adele stay awake during the length of the play.

* * *

The ride to the theatre was surprisingly long, and Jane found herself fighting the urge to text Thomas a play by play of the evening as it had gone by already. It wasn't that most of the night was boring, per sea, but aside from conversing entirely in French with Adele; there was little to concentrate on.

Blanche and Mr. Rochester had been seated directly across from her at the table, so Jane had been given a good view of Blanche's little game of footsies.

"Jane," Mrs. Fairfax interrupted her thoughts. "Are you feeling alright? You look a bit pale?"

"I was just thinking," she replied, looking away from the window. "Are all the outings of Mr. Rochester and his friends so grand?" Taking the opportunity to ask while the others were in a separate car.

"I honestly don't know," Mrs. Fairfax mused. "I haven't ever been invited to any other event outside of this one. But I assume all that Mr. Rochester does is grand. Especially when it involved a young lady."

"Blanche certainly enjoys the attention, doesn't she?" Jane muttered, looking back out the window, feeling her spirits rise with the passing lights indicating their arrival in the West End.

"Men like high maintenance women, and Blanche looks radiant – don't you think. I'm sure he is going to propose soon. He told me he was going to stay for an extra day in London, to make arrangements."

"So soon?" Jane felt the words slip from her lips far too quickly. She felt the car suddenly get hot, seeing her own foolishness.

_Of course he would want to get married, _she thought grimly, _to his lovely one. _

"It's been years, Jane," Mrs. Fairfax offered gently. "They've been playing this cat and mouse game for far too long. It's high time he settled down."

The car seemed to lurch to a stop and Jane felt the roar of Mr. Rochester's impending future slip away as Phantom of the Opera was readable from the sign above the entrance of the theatre.

"This is it," she said to herself, staring up at the lights as if they were taking her to another world. "I can't believe I'm really here."

"I haven't been here since my honeymoon," Mrs. Fairfax sighed, looking starry-eyed. "It hasn't changed so much you know."

Smiling, Jane nodded as she pushed open the door, shivering beneath her coat. Adele clambered out of the car ahead, her curls bouncing as she ran over to Jane.

"Jeanne! Êtes-vous excité?" Adele asked, taking her hand.

"Qui, Adele." She replied, stepping in sync with the child. "Did you get our tickets?"

"Qui!" Adele chirped, not offering anything more than giggles as Sophie appeared behind Mrs. Fairfax - guilt washing over Jane; she'd forgotten all about Sophie coming with them.

"Jane," Mr. Rochester spoke, gliding over to her as they moved towards the door. Even in the sea of people, they could always find each other – everyone else just faded away. The warmth of his hand on her upper back seemed to permeate through the coat. "How was dinner?"

"The quail was superb. How was the salmon?"

He smiled curtly and dipped his head, his hand lingering on her shoulder as blanche and the troupe emerged from the cars. "It was-

"Darling, can we go in before we pick up some horrid diseases from the locals?" Blanche cooed, and Jane shuddered internally.

"At once," he beamed, putting an arm around Blanche, transferring his hand from Jane to his date. "Shall we ladies?"

Smiling at him, she followed – much like a love sick puppy, to her distain – with Adele at his heels.

She didn't want to admit she was wrapped up in the glamor of it all, but the people – once they came back into focus – the sounds, smells, even the coat check was something worth etching into her memory. At times, though they were fleeting, she felt lonely. When she felt the wave of excitement take over, her first instinct was to turn; as if to gush about it.

Yet her only confidant was on the arm of another woman.

When they had all checked in and left their coats, they were herded – an accurate description, by what Jane could surmise given the extent of the crowd – upstairs. Mr. Rochester's box was, as expected: small. There was some fake upset on behalf of a few of the guests, and Jane left Adele with Sophie before ducking into a corner with her phone.

Dialing the number, she wondered if it was even worth trying.

"Hello?"

Taking a breath, she felt the calmness wash over her. "Hello Miss."

"Jane? Is that you?"

"Yes, miss, sorry, I should have said," Jane giggled, feeling nervous. "I'm sorry for calling so late, I just wanted to tell someone where I was."

Are you in trouble Jane?"

Laughing, Jane shook her head. "Quite the opposite, I promise. I'm about to see the Phantom of the Opera. Live. At the West End."

"That's amazing, Jane! How long have you been in London? I haven't heard one word for you since you took that job out in the country."

Grimacing at the corner, she nodded to herself. "A few days, we came up for the play. I live on site, and it's pretty far out in the country. They have pretty terrible reception, it's an old house with minor reno's. I'm teaching a little girl, privately. I'm a good old fashioned governess, which is funny given the schools aptitude test."

"Jane," Mrs. Fairfax called out, looking around. "Where did that girl get to?"

"I'm sorry Miss, I have to go. I should get to my seat"

"Remember to turn your phone off," the sweet voice said on the other end. "And Jane, call me before you leave tomorrow."

"I will, I promise."

Exiting the call, Jane appeared once more and met the group head on.

"Oh, dear, there you are," Mrs. Fairfax said, in that voice that meant everything was going wrong. "We can't fit everyone in the box." Jane blinked at her as if this was supposed to shock her. "The other boxes were rented out to this high school, and all that are left as some first row seats. Now, I said that Adele should be up here-

"I have everything all worked out," a booming voice seemed to echo. A short man with a dramatic mustache appeared behind them suddenly, waving his hands – as if his voice hadn't caught their attention. "Luckily we have some six row front seats still available. No extra charge, of course."

"I should hope not." Blanche sniffed.

"Since Mr. Rochester rented the box for his ward, I do think it is prudent that the young lady gets the chance to view the play from our famous seats." The man was saying.

"Nonsense," Mr. Rochester said softly, his voice a growl. "The view from the third row of the floor is much better than this old box, surely my guests are entitled to that."

The little man didn't skip a beat. "Of course, sir. Right away everyone. Follow me!"

"Jane," Mr. Rochester said softly, taking her arm. "You will stay up here with Adele, Mrs. Blanche and myself, won't you?"

"Of course sir." She replied, trying not to feel giddy as she took Adele into the room they would spent the next few hours in.


	27. Chapter 27

From the moment the music started, the world disappeared around her. Everything that unfolded, from the colours to the abrupt entry of actors into their booth, charmed Jane - and Adele. Never once did either of their attentions wander from the glamour and beauty of the scenes, songs and overall splendor.

Almost.

Jane once looked over her shoulder, when the actor playing Raul and the theatre managers started singing in their box, to smile back at her employer and his date, only to see the two engaged in a kiss that apparently took all attention away from the play.

She didn't dare look back after that.

Instead she watched as the Phantom watched over Christine and Raul vowing to love one another for life; wondering which character she was in this scene, and dreading the answer.

Instead, she felt duty bound to enjoy the evening and look happy, even if realisation was dawning on her slowly.

Mr. Rochester was going to marry Blanche, and she would have to leave. If, for nothing else, for her own sake. She couldn't end up watching from the shadows like the Phantom, nor resorting to murder – like the Phantom.

She was sure that Mr. Rochester felt something for her, yet he was clearly pursuing another woman.

_Does he wish to keep me for his mistress? _The thought crept into her mind before she had any idea the seed had been planted. Her soul told her _no, never_ but her mind replayed some of the moments over the past few months and felt her heart sinking.

As the curtain dropped for intermission, Jane needed air.

"Adele, do you want a snack?" Jane asked the child, who was looking rather sleepy as the desert high wore off. "Some juice, or cocoa maybe?" Looking back at Blanche and Mr. Rochester, Jane felt at a loss. "Do they sell anything like that here?"

Blanche snorted, "Of course they do, this isn't a penny and dime theatre. But why are you giving the child sugar this late at night, she won't be able to sleep, and she'll be bouncing off the walls before the play if over. It's not very responsible of you."

Jane found the courage to smile at the woman. "Do you have children, Miss?"

"God no," the woman snorted. "Retched things."

"Hmm," Jane made a sound. "I trust you won't object to holding Adele, Mr. Rochester, when she falls asleep during the second act?"

If he was unamused, he didn't show it. He merely said, "Some cocoa, Miss Eyre, and a small brownie," he fished out his wallet and held it out to her. "Do you want anything Blanche?"

"You know I never touch carbs after 8." Blanche cooed, stroking his chest.

"Two cocoas, Miss Eyre," he said nonchalantly. "Three, if you are so inclined to carbs after 8."

She took it without saying a word and weaved her wave through the crowd to stand in line for the concession. It was longer than she expected, so she dug out her phone and contemplated sending a few texts to Thomas; but didn't.

She didn't want to confirm what he had hinted at – him, a perfect stranger to the rest of the world, and to her, before coming to London. He wasn't malicious, she knew, but somehow it felt as if telling the him meant truly revealing that she was crushed by revelation she was in love with her employer.

"How can I help you?" the girl at the stand said, and Jane bought exactly two cocoas and a brownie.

Coming back to the box, she divvied up the goodies out to their respective owners and sat down just as the music started again.

Determined to focus wholeheartedly on the play, Jane didn't turn around once in the second act – and she didn't think any more of Mr. Rochester and Blanche. In her mind, she was dancing and twirling along to the sounds of Masquerade.

* * *

After the play was over, they were brought backstage, Jane was very pleased to see that the lead actress was sweet and nice, and the leading men were drop dead gorgeous close up. The Phantom especially, with his charming smile and firm handshake.

Jane thought even Mrs. Fairfax swooned when he said hello to them.

Mr. Rochester was chatting to them like he was old friends with them, and Jane felt quite weary. Adele was crashing from the treats, and Jane found it an excuse to take her back to the hotel.

"Jane," the familiar voice growled as she made her way to the back stairs. She had hoped to escape unnoticed and call the car without incident. "Why are you leaving so early? You must stay and mingle, with the rest of us. There is an after party we've been invited to-

"Adele has already been up far too late, and we have an early morning - heading back," Jane said gently. "There is no other reason for me to stay."

Mr. Rochester frowned and narrowed his eyes at her. "You stay because I wish it, and I pay you do as I say."

She rolled her eyes at him and sighed. "As yes, because being your paid subordinate is the highlight of my life."

He blinked at her before he broke into a grin. "Cheeky girl. Do you not like working for me?"

"If I ever get paid I can let you know in a lengthy review," she replied sharply, "But for now I am taking Adele back to the hotel. I trust you can manage to remember your card, or do you need me to think of everything."

"What has gotten into you Jane?" he asked, leaning forward, where his expression suddenly changed as he studied her. "What's wrong? I've never seen your eyes so sad."

She huffed at him and looked away.

"Jane," he whispered, and she turned back to look at him. "You look as if you are about to cry."

She felt like slapping him. "I'm perfectly fine, I am just tired like I said."

"Jane-

"My name, sir, is Miss Eyre – or have you forgotten?" she asked curtly, hearing the steel in her voice.

"I will call for the car," Mr. Rochester said, smiling now as Blanche walked over. "It will meet you out front."

"Edward, what are you doing back here? People will talk if you dart after your employees to readily." She chided him, though she was looking straight at Jane.

"I wanted to make sure Miss Eyre was well," he replied, wincing slightly when he used that vernacular to refer to her. "As you can see, Miss Eyre is leaving us."

"Yes," Blanche cooed. "but she looks well enough. Really, Edward, you'd think the girl means something to you."

"She is my responsibility whilst caring for Adele," he said firmly, but kept his features soft. "And I do not have to justify being a decent human being to anyone, let alone you."

Jane, feeling more awkward than not, skirted around them and found Adele. It was a struggle to pry her away from the party, but it didn't take long for the girl to fall asleep on the ride home.

Jane, however, couldn't sleep – and didn't sleep – when they reached the hotel. Instead she went into the private business section of the hotel and began searching for other teaching jobs; trying not to cry. This trip had begun so happily, but it seemed to have spiraled down into a darkness from which she could never return from.

It was nearly 4 in the morning when Jane returned to her half of the hotel room, her eyes red with tears and her back tense with pain.


	28. Chapter 28

**Another update! I am thrilled you all are enjoying it! I am introducing Mr. Mason in this chapter, and I do not have a good handle on Jamaican accents - so forgive me if I have it wrong. I am going to try and do more frequent updates, but my school life is pretty crazy - but I will do my very best!**

**Much love - V**

* * *

The next morning Jane felt as if a large truck had run over her body, every joint and muscle ached. She felt as if she was swimming most of the morning.

Appearing from her room, she sought out the coffee machine that was well stocked with different types of Keurig cups. Grabbing the one with the strongest caffeine content, Jane shivered with sleep deprivation and the cold of the crisp morning.

"Not even a good morning Jane," came his voice behind her, from the direction of the chairs. "Is this the true Jane I am seeing now?"

Whirling around, she blinked, rubbing her eyes. "I didn't see you, sir."

"Jane," he lowered his newspaper and cocked his head to study her. "I had thought we moved past this _sir_ nonsense."

"Not for a moment. I am still a paid subordinate, are I not?" she hissed, turning to the machine as it hummed a tune to say it was done. The coffee was bitter but it was much needed, so she started another cup brewing.

The sound of his laughter made her angry, though she didn't truly understand the physical reaction she had to it. "Is that what's bothering you?" he asked, standing. He approached with a few long strides and began taking out cream and sugar for the coffee. "Hm, my dearest Jane?"

"I'm not your dearest anything, and you mock me with the words," she replied, meeting his eyes evenly. As a hearty chuckle arose in his throat, Jane whacked his hand away from her second cup of coffee. "That's not for you. Make you own."

"Ha, what a cat lurks within you Jane. I've never seen you like this," his eyes sparkled, as if he had just discovered something about her he had not before understood. "Did you not enjoy the show last night? Blanche said it was excellent."

Feeling rather like she might like to scratch the women's eyes out, Jane rolled her own instead. "It has nothing to do with the show."

"What, then?' he asked, taking the cup of coffee from the machine before she could grab it; though he quickly placed another in its stead. "Bad dreams?"

"As if I would be affected by bad dreams," she scoffed, looking away. "Though I did not sleep well."

"I can that tell by the rather large circles under your eyes, Jane." He mused, and she made a face. "Are you going to dislike everything I say today?"

"Hardly, this is the only time I am going to see you today. I shall be free of you for an entire day, and be at peace." She replied quickly, though she was smiling now.

"Oh, you are fed up with me?" he grinned as he sipped his coffee. "Or did you finally realise that you prefer Adonis over Vernus after all? Hm? Have you ever had a lover Jane?"

Nearly spitting her coffee out, Jane choked instead. "What kind of question is that?"

"An honest one between two adults, Jane. You already know I have had lovers in the past, and my lovely one. You said that I knew little about you, so why not tell me?" he asked, as if it was the most innocent question he'd ever uttered.

"Ask me my favorite colour not if I had ever had a sexual partner!" she said, aghast, blushing. "You hardly deserve to know the answer, and don't you dare tell me of your sexual exploits – I have no wish to know."

"Don't you?" he said darkly. "What if I fell ill tomorrow and a doctor asked you about my history?"

"Then you would die because I don't know a thing about your medical history." Jane huffed, swapping out the coffee cups.

He laughed heartily but his eyes were far from amused. "Well, I'm not allergic to anything and have only had one surgery overseas. I have all my shots, though I can't guarantee that you won't get rabies if I bite you."

He was teasing her, she realised, too late of course, and she gaped at him. "You're practically married!"

"Am I?" he questioned her. "Am I indeed."

"Mrs. Fairfax said you were going to propose soon," Jane said softly.

"Does she know your previous sexual partners?" he tried again and she laughed, finally.

"No! That's no one's business," she found the uneasiness fleeing from her body. "Certainly not yours. But if you're looking for ways to improve your…_performance_, I think you can find a copy of the karma sutra at the local bookstore."

He snickered and drank more of his coffee. "Improve my performance," he muttered, "what a cheeky thing you are today."

"I've heard it's important for a good relationship," she continued, feeling braver. "I could talk to your lovely one and let her know that she needs to pick one up-

"You will do no such thing, my performance needs no such improvement. I've not had any complaints thus far."

"That you know of," she chirped, sipping her coffee as he smirked at her.

"Why have you gotten in touch with any my lovers to ask them?" he asked her. "Gotten the nitty gritty details have you?"

"Women never tell the man he's terrible, they always tell their girlfriends." Jane explained, through giggles. "Don't look at me like that, it's not my fault if your performance is rated lower than you expected. Adonis had a few faults too, I recall."

"And do you think that a man or woman should be judged for their past indiscretions, good or _bad_, Jane?" he asked suddenly, serious all of a sudden.

"No." She answered, tilting her head as she thought about it. "Christine was judged by those around her for disappearing for a night, but Raul never judged her for it."

He snorted, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You are a precious child, Jane. Did you not understand the reason they judged her?"

She blinked at him, and she confessed she had never thought about it.

"They assumed she was with a man, sexually, because of her profession as an actress, during that time. The double standard for men and women, Jane. But if anyone was to be judged in that play, do you not think it was the Phantom?"

Jane nodded, slowly, and thought for a moment. "Wasn't he….a victim of circumstance just as much as she was? The cruelty of the world made him bitter, but he turned himself into a monster to suit is own needs. He doesn't truly love Christine, but himself."

Mr. Rochester smiled sadly. "Monsters should be pitied Jane, for they are as easily created from bitter wounds as they are from the blessed holy waters."

"But no one made him murder her love for him." She replied softly, watching his reaction closely.

"Indeed," he muttered, removing his hand from her shoulder. "but in the sequel, Christine ends up with the Phantom, despite everything."

"It can't be very good then," Jane stated, looking into her coffee. "can it? Christine would trapped by a mind whose love is fundamentally warped."

"Love is not straightforward, Jane," he whispered, looking to the ceiling. "It is a vast and dangerous thing that has no true form at all, it takes a hold of you so suddenly that before you realise, your body is no longer your own."

_He loves her so,_ she realised as she listened to his words, _yet I am foolish to think he might one-day care for me. _

"I should get everything packed and ready to go," Jane said abruptly, feeling blue once again. "Excuse me."

* * *

He wasn't in the hotel room when she came out again, and she wished she had said goodbye earlier.

"Doesn't matter," she said aloud to the empty space. "you'll see him soon enough anyway."

Adele and Sophie were all packed, Sophie glanced at Jane twice before applying a thick layer of cover-up under her eyes to hide the circles.

The car was ready and waiting.

Jane took out her phone and dialed Thomas' number, but it went to voicemail.

"Hi, it's me, Jane. I'm leaving in about 5 minutes. The play was great, really amazing. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left, since I don't know when I will see you again," she paused, watching as Blanche walked through the hotel doors. "but I decided that I am going to seek a position elsewhere. I was looking at teaching positions overseas, in Japan and South America. I'd love to get an opinion from you, when you have a chance," she whispered, turning away from the hotel. "Please text me when you have time, and thank you – for all the fun."

Hanging up, she thought of Miss Temple and how they would not be able to meet. From the car she called and left a message, and then settled in for the long drive back to the place she could only call home for a short while longer.

* * *

It was pitch black when they arrived, and Adele was carried up to her room by Thomas. Jane was putting her bag by the door when a figure appeared out of the shadows –making her jump.

"it's alright," the voice said, a man's voice that was layered with an accent. "I didn't mean to startle ya." He sounded like he had come from the Caribbean or some such place.

"Who are you?" she barked, balling her fists.

"Mah name is Richard Mason," the man grinned, as he stepped into the light. He was as tall as Mr. Rochester, but with warmer eyes and beautiful dark skin. "I'm a long-time friend of Edward's, from Jamaica."

"Oh," Jane let out the breath she was holding. "Well what are you doing here so late?"

"I've been here all day," he replied with a smile, showing off white teeth. "Waiting for my old friend to come home. I didn't know you had grown so much Adele."

Jane blinked and shook her head. "I'm her teacher, Jane."

"Jane?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're sure your name is Jane?"

"Positive," she replied, uneasy. "Why?"

"Don't ya know the story of this place?" he asked her, seeing her shake her head, he continued. "there's been many a death in this place. It all started with the star crossed lovers."

"Star crossed lovers?" Jane asked, turning on another inside light and ushered him inside.

"Yes, this house is cursed. Legend has it that the spirit of the governess still walks the halls, searching for her lover who perished in the fire a year before she came looking for him, then through herself off the rotting rooftop." He explained, taking off his shoes.

"What does that have to do with me?" Jane asked, just as Mrs. Fairfax walked in.

"Mr. Mason!" she cried, embracing him in a hug. "I'm glad to see you again. How's the family?"

"All grown up, dating and wreaking havoc, as always." He replied happily, producing pictures on his phone. "Jana is 15 and Laura is 8."

"What darling girls, Richard," Mrs. Fairfax gushed. "They look just like you."

"You're too kind," he beamed, "But they take after their mother. Prettiest women I even laid eyes on."

"That's so sweet," she continued, before launching into where he should sleep. Then she gave commands to have his bags moved into a bedroom near the other guests, with Jane's help.

"Miss," he said, catching Jane as she was taking Adele's things to her room. "The story I told you, earlier, the governess' name was Jane. I can't remember what her last name was. It's why I found it so ironic that you share her name." he smiled at her, wished her good night and retreated into his room – leaving Jane to shiver.

Were the ghostly moans really all from a ghost of a girl mourning her lost lover?

The thought was terrifying.

Jane settled into bed that night with a firmly locked door and the blankets up around her ears, in case she was visited by the ghost of governess past.


	29. Chapter 29

_The low sound of moaning was stifled by the sicken sobs that echoed throughout the mansion, as the breeze that blew through the remains of the house sent a shiver down her spine. _

_"__Jane." The wind whispered, in a deeper voice that seemed to call to her very core. She knew the voice, so long had she not heard it whispered in her ear; yet there was no way he could be whispering it now. _

_His bones had long since turned to ash, yet the familiar warmth of his fingers gently traversed over the tears falling on her cheeks. _

_"__Come to me, Jane." His voice was a gentle caress, a lull, to the edge. _

_The wind seemed to lift her feet toward the ledge, her fingers outstretch to touch the figure that seemed to materialise in the air in front of her. _

_She longed for him – but longing was too underpowered a word to properly conveyed the emotion she felt. _

_She was not herself without him._

_She could not think without him._

_Her heart was bleeding out into her body cavity since their separation, she was merely a shell devoid of any tender feelings. _

_"__I'm coming," she whispered back, leaping off the highest part of the balcony – expecting the ghostly apparition to catch her._

_But he didn't. _

_The air around her was voice as suddenly she dropped to the cold hard ground. _

Jane's eyes flashed open, a breath sucked into her lungs with panic. It had all been so real, so vivid.

She had felt herself die on the stone cold ground, moments after her body had landed there.

Sitting up, Jane felt her bones in case – somehow – the dream was real. However, she found all body parts intact and no bones broken or splintered.

Releasing the breath she was holding, Jane swallowed and tried to shake off the feeling that was swirling in her brain. Looking over to the clock, she shivered as the clock read 3:33 am.

The handle of her door suddenly began to rattle, and Jane's eyes widened as she thought she heard a low murmur be whispered through the wood.

_"__Jane." _

"Oh god," Jane whispered, watching like a deer in the headlights as the handle kept moving. She'd forgotten how terrifying this house was. "Oh god," she moaned, "make it go away. Go away. Go away."

The she heard a click, as if a key had been inserted into the lock.

Panicking, Jane leapt out of the bed, trying to find something to brace the door with; finding nothing. Running to the back of her room, she desperately slunk along the wall – wanting to disappear herself.

"_Jane."_

Her name again seemed to whisper along her ears, the hair on her neck moving as if being stroked.

If there was a ghost behind her, Jane decided, she would not turn to face it.

_I won't_, she thought, _this must be a dream._

The thought was sobering, but the feeling of security did not last long with the continual rattling of her door knob and the sickening sound that was now coming from her door.

It sounded like nails being raked over the wood in long, deliberate, strokes. Over and over again.

_"__Jane."_

"No," she whispered back, shutting her eyes as she sunk to the floor. "No, no, no, no."

_"__Come to me, Jane."_

Whimpering, she curled into a ball and started reciting something, anything, that came to mind to shift her focus elsewhere.

It was close to dawn that she finally realised that the sounds and ghostly moaning had ceased, but she didn't move at first. Her blood shot eyes kept darting about the room, her mouth dry from panting; her body slick with sweat.

"Goddamn this house," she muttered hoarsely. "I can't wait to leave."

* * *

The day itself was not out of the ordinary. Jane had to alter the lesson because she was so tired that it was hard to concentrate. She was jumpy, irritable and constantly shivering – it was so bad that even the guests noticed.

"Jane," Blanche caught her attention at lunchtime. "Are you sick? You look dreadful."

The whole table seemed to turn to look at her, with her overly pale skin and raccoon like circles under her eyes.

"I didn't sleep well," she offered bleakly. "One to many ghost stories."

"Ghost stories?" Blanche questioned.

"My fault," Mr. Mason said gently. "I should have known to tell the story so late at night would play on your mind. The brain is a complex organ, it can bring the most bizarre things to life in our heads."

"What did you tell her?" Blanche demanded, narrowing her eyes at the man.

"A little legend from these parts," he replied gently. "Nothing we have to repeat. I'm sorry, Jane, I should have known better."

"If you can't do your job," Blanche snarled, leaning back in her chair. "without turning into a shivering, scatterbrained ninny, then perhaps childcare isn't in your future. Children tell ghost stories all the time."

"Miss Ingram," Mr. Mason corrected her, saying his words calmly. "I do not think it is your right to reprimand someone in the employment of Mr. Rochester. You are not married, after all."

The woman merely stared at him, while Jane was grateful to have someone correct the horrid woman for once. While Mr. Mason wasn't her favorite person, by all account he was as strange and ghostly as the demons that prowled the halls, but he acknowledged his part in it – and she felt relieved, slightly.

When the afternoon hit, Jane had to sleep; so she made Adele take a placement test for a school – under Sophie's supervision – while Jane napped on the couch. It did her a world of good, and she felt much more alive than she had all day.

* * *

Around 8pm, the group of guests had insisted on playing games – and had decided to make Jane be on one of their teams. The game was like charades, but done in teams and with three stages. It was, to her surprise, a lot of fun. It certainly took her mind off the whole nightmare of the night before.

Her team was on their round when Mrs. Fairfax came in, looking rather startled.

"There's a gypsy, a bon-a-fide gypsy woman in the house," she said, not saying things remotely clearly. "She says there are people here whose fortunes she must tell, that it is life or death!" She gasped, clutching her chest.

"Surely not," Blanche scoffed. "It must be a local kid play a trick."

"It's not!" Mrs. Fairfax insisted. "She knew things about me that not a soul on earth would know, she's the real thing."

"Well," one of the boys, whom Jane had long since stopped trying to tell apart, stood up and spoke. "I for one want to meet this woman. Since I am a sceptic, let us see how well she does with me."

"She's in the study," Mrs. Fairfax sputtered, sitting – collapsing – in a nearby chair.

_How fun_, Jane thought, watching the looks on the people's faces around them. _I wonder if I shall get a chance as well_?


End file.
